


The Morning After

by Koyote19



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, F/M, Gothic Lovestory, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-07 11:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 49,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5455451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koyote19/pseuds/Koyote19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's got to be a morning after, but that doesn't help when you don't remember the night before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic deals with a serious topic, and one I am not trying to make light of in any way, though there is humor in it. **Note the warnings.**
> 
> Quotes are from the song "The Morning After", from The Poseidon Adventure. 
> 
> I took great liberties with the drugs and medical knowledge in this fic. I have no idea if this type of drug is possible, or if it would have the effects I have described. I have also taken liberties with the last names and relationships of several canon characters.

_//There’s got to be a morning after_  
_If we can hold on through the night_  
_We have a chance to find the sunshine_  
_Let’s keep on looking for the light//_ \-- The Morning After by Maureen McGovern

 

**Chapter 1**

Duo woke slowly, his head pounding a half beat off from his heartbeat. The noise was deafening, and he whimpered as his eyelashes throbbed in sympathy. He didn’t dare open his eyes, as the insides of his eyelids were glowing slightly; judging from the heat on his cheek and forehead, he was facing directly into the sun, at a very close proximity. 

It took several more minutes of misery before he began to take notice of anything else around him, like the heavy object draped across his hip, and pressed along his back. What the fuck? Whatever it was— was hard, warm, and felt surprisingly like flesh. Where the hell am I? 

Forcing himself to ignore the blinding headache, he squirmed experimentally. The object draped over his hip turned out to be an arm, which tightened around his waist to tug him back against whoever was spooned up behind him. 

I’m in bed with someone? 

It seemed to be taking far too long for his brain to process this information. He tried to remember where he was, but couldn’t. The arm, meanwhile, tightened even more as a hand stroked across his belly and down to nestle on his crotch; which is when his brain finally noticed that he was naked while in bed with someone unknown… who was also naked. Warm flesh pressed firmly against his back from shoulders to ankles, and someone’s knee was wedged between his legs. Something else was pressing directly against his ass, though his mind seemed oddly reluctant to identify that.

“Fuck!” The whisper sounded impossibly loud to his ears, and he flinched instinctively.

“Shhh,” his bedmate mumbled behind him. “Go back to sleep, Duo.”

Oh…god. This time the squirm was a definite struggle to free himself from the arm trapping him. 

“No…” A guy—I’m in bed with a guy—I’m naked in bed with a guy-- His thoughts stumbled around that idea for a second, as panic warred with nausea. 

Nausea won, about the time that a small part of his brain started cataloging pain from other areas of his body, including his ass. With a strangled moan as light flooded his now wide open eyes, he ripped himself out of the man’s arms and dived for the open bathroom door across the room. Slipping to his knees on cold white tile, he proceeded to lose the entire contents of his stomach into the toilet. 

It hurt; oh dear god did it hurt— 

His thoughts were clamoring so loudly, he barely registered the sound behind him until someone leaned around him to gather his loose hair into a bronzed fist. That realization was followed a moment later by the even more useless one: my hair is down.

Realizing that he was curled around unforgiving and rather cold porcelain, he tried to push himself back onto his knees. The room was swirling around him enough that if he had anything left in his stomach to throw up, he would have done it right then. A hand caught his shoulder, tugging him back to lean against an ancient claw-foot tub.

“Here, drink this.” A dripping glass moved into his range of vision. He just stared at it numbly for a moment before turning his head to look up at the man kneeling over him for the first time. 

The man was tall, with a vaguely oriental look to his angular face that was very much at odds with the concerned blue eyes staring down at him. Dark brown hair fell in wild straggles around his eyes and face. Naked, there was no disguising the muscles rippling beneath dark gold skin; the man was not only taller than Duo was, he was also older and a hell of a lot stronger. 

He also looked vaguely familiar. A flash of memory hit him, and he caught an image of the man, dressed in tight denim and leather, straddling a sleek motorcycle; but there was still nothing to tell him who the man was— or why Duo had been in bed with him.

“How-- how do you… know my name?” It wasn’t the most intelligent question he could have asked, but the headache had come back with crushing force, and it was all he could do to stay conscious. “Where am I?”

“What?” Dark blue eyes narrowed as they studied him. He flinched again, trying to pull away from the hand that was still holding his hair, and the man scowled. “Hold still and drink.” The glass pressed against his lips. He clenched his jaw, turning his head as far as he could against the grip on his hair, only to freeze again as the man growled.

“Don’t touch me…” he whispered, wrapping his arms tightly around his drawn up knees and shivering in the cold air. To his surprise, the man shrugged and released the long strands; they fell loose around Duo’s shoulders and back to pool on the floor.

“Duo…” the stranger sighed. “Fine. Suit yourself.” 

Setting the glass down on the bathroom counter, he sat back on his heels and simply stared at Duo silently. After a few long, tense minutes, Duo couldn’t help glancing up at the man out of the corner of his eye. The other man was leaning with one shoulder against the doorframe; still naked and seemingly unconcerned about that fact as he studied Duo with an oddly appraising look. “I’d ask if you want breakfast, but I suspect the answer would be no.”

Clenching his teeth at the mere thought of food, Duo couldn’t help shaking his head helplessly. 

“Drink the water.” The man stood up, then disappeared from the bathroom silently. 

Duo didn’t hesitate, uncurling from the bathroom floor to close and lock the door. Sinking down to rest with his back against the smooth wood, he curled back into a ball in the vain attempt to stay warm in the cold room. 

What is happening? Why can’t I remember how I got here-- what happened to me? He felt as though he were drowning, as his thoughts spun around in narrowing circles. I-- I’ve been…. He couldn’t quite force himself to even think the word rape. He didn’t dare. It was taking all of his concentration to gather up his scattered wits and deal with the situation. I can’t fall apart now. I have to get out of here.

Taking a deep breath, he forced the panic down and looked around. He was in a small bathroom— with cold tile, bare porcelain… and nothing else. The barren expanse of white hurt his eyes. No robes. No towels that he could use as covering. Nothing more menacing that a single red toothbrush and a bottle of cheap shampoo that he could use as a weapon. No windows. 

Ok. Get a grip, Duo. You have to calm down. Which was, of course, far easier to think than to do. He took another deep breath. 

First things first. Figure out where you are, and how you got here. And where your clothes are… 

His eyes fell on the glass of water again, and for a moment everything around him was forgotten as he realized just how thirsty he was. Forcing trembling muscles to move, he uncurled from the door long enough to creep across the floor and take the glass. Oddly enough, his head seemed to clear a little after he drained the glass… and it was a relief to wash away the foul taste in his mouth. Still thirsty, he filled the cup again from the tap and took another long drink. 

Okay. Clothes and a way out are on the other side of the door… and so is _he_. You can’t stay in here forever, and I doubt that this door is going to stop him if he really wants in. 

Gathering up what was left of his courage, he moved back over to the door and listened. There was no sound from the bedroom, though he could hear something rattling from farther away. Now or never, Maxwell. 

It still took Duo a long moment of fighting the dizziness before he worked up the will to unlock the door and pull it open. 

To his relief, the bedroom was empty. Bright sunlight from deep bay windows threw blinding bars of light across the room and pooled on the rumpled futon across the long room. 

How can the sun be shining so brightly…when everything has gone so very wrong? 

Narrowing his eyes against the painful light, he staggered across the room towards the bed; and nearly fell as his bare feet tangled in the pair of jeans crumpled beside the bed. Thank you, God... 

“Are you sure you don’t want to just go back to bed?” The smooth voice came from behind him, startling him badly. He tried to turn, tripped on the jeans, and ended up falling flat onto the edge of the futon with an undignified yelp. 

Turning his head, he stared up at the stranger, now dressed in only a pair of snug, ragged blue jeans, leaning casually against the doorframe. Amused blue eyes studied him for a long moment. “You might want to consider giving up drinking, kid, if you always get hangovers this badly.”

“I…” Shaking his head slightly, he managed to turn so that he was facing the door; and then scrambled backwards across the bed as the man started across the room. “No!”

“Duo?” The stranger halted abruptly, his eyes narrowing again as he watched Duo. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”

He stared at the man in disbelief for a long moment, stunned by the question. “How… can you…? You rape me… and ask me….”

“Whoa!” The man’s blue eyes darkened abruptly with anger. “What’s this rape crap? You were more than willing last night, kid.” The man ignored his panicked attempts to keep the length of the bed between them, stalking towards him with a menacing grace that only emphasized how outmatched Duo was. “And there were about a hundred witnesses last night to you coming on to me.”

“I…” Duo shook his head desperately. “I’m not gay. I… wouldn’t have….”

“In that case, I strongly recommend that you give up alcohol.” The man snorted, still looking furious. Duo scrambled back even farther, then found himself pinned against the headboard with no where else to go. “Because you were very much into guys last night at the party.”

Duo blinked. “W- what party?” His voice, when he managed to get it out, was little more than a strangled whisper. Why can’t I remember?

The stranger stopped his advance just short of the bed and simply stared at Duo in shock. “You… really _don’t_ remember last night… do you?”

Duo shook his head slowly. 

“Bloody fucking…hell,” the man swore. “I know you were drinking. But you were not that drunk last night, to have blacked out. What else were you on?”

“I wasn’t on anything!” Duo growled, the fear morphing into anger. “I don’t use drugs. And I don’t remember going to a party last night. I don’t remember you… I don’t remember… how… I….” 

As fast as it had filled him, the anger drained away, leaving only the gut wrenching feeling of violation behind. He wanted to cry. But boys don’t cry.

“Shit. This is fucked!” The man turned away, and slammed his fist into the wall with a low growl. “Dammit!” 

Duo flinched, shrinking into a smaller ball on the bed as the man turned his head back to look at him. Something that might have been pain flashed through the dark eyes, then vanished back into the anger. 

“So what is the last thing you do remember?” The question caught him off guard, and he raised his head in surprise. He struggled hard to remember anything prior to waking up in Hell. 

“Leaving…class. American Lit.” 

“You have Friday classes?” The man’s voice suddenly gentled.

“No…”

“What day, then?”

“Thursday…”

“Then you lost more than just last night.” The man took a deep breath. “It’s Saturday morning now.” 

“God…” Duo curled up again. What’s happening? Why can’t I remember?

“Look, calm down, okay?” The man ran his hands through his tousled hair, looking more than a little annoyed, even though the anger had abruptly vanished. “You don’t have to look that scared, Duo, I’m not going to hurt you.” 

Duo frowned up at him in complete disbelief, but didn’t speak. He tensed a little as the man moved to sit at the foot of the bed, but the stranger made no move to touch him, only watched him thoughtfully.

“Are you feeling any better?”

Duo ignored the question, turning his head away mutely.

“Duo?”

“How do you think I feel?” he finally snapped. “I wake up, feeling like shit, in a total stranger’s bed… after…after… I don’t even know…what… and…”

“Heero.”

“What?” He broke off, blinking at the man in confusion.

“My name. If you don’t remember last night at all— then you probably don’t remember that either.”

“I—” he hesitated, caught a little off balance by the man’s change in attitude. What the hell? He’s being… nice? After what he did? 

“So what happened when you left class on Thursday?”

“That’s none of your business.” He let the anger buffer him from the sick void where his stomach should have been. 

“Look, kid, I think it is. Something obviously happened, or you wouldn’t be sitting in my bed, the morning after some truly amazing sex, with no memory at all of it.”

It was abruptly too much for Duo. Ignoring the fact that Heero was probably at least five years his senior, and looked to be much stronger than he was, he threw himself at the other man. Surprise let him land one punch, before he found himself flipped and pinned to the futon. 

Hard fingers locked around his wrists as they were held on either side of his head; he was only too conscious of the fact that he was still naked as denim rasped against bare skin where Heero was sitting on his legs. 

Panic lent him the strength to thrash against the stronger man, until his head finally caught up to the motion and blinding pain hit him squarely between the eyes. He went limp with a choked moan, not even able to muster the energy to look up at his captor as the taller man held him down easily. 

“Well… I’m sure that helped a lot,” Heero muttered sarcastically. “Do us both a favor, and don’t fight, hmm? I’d rather you didn’t puke on my bed.” 

“Fuck you…” Duo whispered, while trying to convince himself that the trembling was caused by anger and not flatout terror. Oh god… what is he going to do to me?

“I don’t think so.” Heero sighed. When Duo didn’t move, one of his wrists was slowly released. The man brushed tangled hair out of his eyes, though Duo kept them tightly closed. He didn’t want to see the man looming over him… didn’t want to feel the hard body pressed against his own… didn’t want to be alive when the man decided to rape him again. 

“Duo… kid… calm down. Okay? I don’t want to hurt you.” There was a pause, and Duo could feel the man studying him closely. “Are you alright?”

“No.” The admission made it past clenched teeth, surprising Duo as much as the man sitting on him. “I’m not… alright…” 

He could feel the shivers growing worse, but couldn’t seem to stop them. His breath came in short pants, and he wondered if the man would still take him if he was unconscious… or dead. Was he awake last night?

“I’m sorry.” The words fell flat between them, sinking into the tension and fading quickly. “I know this has to be… awkward.”

“Awkward?” Duo blinked up at the older man, wishing he didn’t feel so dazed— so lost. It was taking more energy now to hold himself together than he had to spare. There suddenly wasn’t enough left over to fight anymore; he felt as though his emotions had taken off on a wild roller-coaster, dragging him along for the ride. “You have no idea.”

“I know.” Heero sighed, then abruptly let go and moved off of him. Duo blinked after him in surprise as the man stalked around the bed and bent to scoop up the jeans he’d tripped over earlier. Hard blue eyes met his again as Heero tossed them onto his lap. “Get dressed.”

“What?” Duo rubbed his head, trying to focus. But things were beginning to move around him a little too quickly, and he felt more as if he was flailing around in deep water than anything else. “I¬¬- what are—?”

“I’ll take you home. But we need to make a stop first, before it gets too much later. So get dressed.” 

He clutched the clothes to him, more than a little bewildered. What the hell is going on? And where the heck are my underwear? Fuck… who cares. He ignored the small voice in the back of his mind, sounding suspiciously like Sister Angelina, lecturing him for swearing. Somehow, he rather thought that Sister Helen would forgive him, under the circumstances. And probably do some swearing of her own. Damnit, my head is killing me— 

Hastily pushing away all thoughts of the nuns from the orphanage where he’d grown up, and trying to ignore the lingering dizzying headache, he squirmed awkwardly into the crumpled denim

Heero didn’t bother to watch as he dressed, but vanished into the bathroom. Duo had the jeans fastened, and was looking around for his shirt when the man returned to rummage in a small closet. A shirt was tossed onto the bed beside him, followed a moment later by a heavy leather jacket that was far too large for Duo. The older man shrugged into a long sleeved t-shirt of his own, and a second leather jacket. 

“You aren’t going to throw up again, are you?” 

The question startled him, and Duo looked up to see the man standing very close to him, eyeing him warily. “I…”

“If you are, do it now, before we get on the motorcycle.” His voice gentled slightly. “Put the shirt on, kid. Don’t just hold it.”

“I…yeah.” He shook his head, and pulled the shirt on shakily. “I’m… not going to be… sick again.”

“Good.” To his surprise, the man reached out to run careful fingers along his cheek. “It’s going to be okay, kiddo.”

“Don’t—” Duo flinched away, and nearly missed the sudden sadness that flashed through the hard blue eyes. 

“Sorry.” Heero’s expression changed abruptly back into the familiar scowl. “Let’s go.” 

Duo tugged the shirt over his aching head, and struggled into the voluminous jacket. Heero stooped to pick something from the floor by the bed, and shoved it into his jacket pocket before Duo caught sight of more than a faint glimpse of black fabric.

“My shoes?”

“In the living room.” The man jerked his head towards the door. “You going to be okay to walk?”

“Yeah…” Duo stumbled a little as he crossed the room, but twisted away before the man could catch him. “Where are we going?”

“I told you… I need to make a stop; then I’ll take you home.” 

The man led him into a small, equally bright living room; the only furnishings consisted of a comfortably overstuffed couch, a glass coffee table, a computer desk with a rather complex computer system, and a large stereo. A bookcase next to the front door held only a collection of motorcycle helmets, and gloves. 

Duo’s shoes were next to the couch, half covered with a pile of black mesh. It turned out to be a shirt, though Duo couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to wear something that flimsy outside in late November. He suddenly flushed, realizing why the man had lent him the long sleeved t-shirt and jacket. He had been wearing that…?

“Here. This should fit you…” The man held a helmet out to him, as he shoved his bare feet into the tennis shoes. 

“O-okay…” Taking the helmet, he let the man pull him out the door and down a rickety set of stairs to where the white motorcycle he’d seen in the single flash of memory was waiting. He shook his head, feeling as if there was a black cloud pressing against him. It was too hard to think, to function. With a soft groan, he stopped trying to focus on what was happening around him; barely noticing as he was tugged over to the motorcycle.

“Duo…?” He managed to raise his head and look at the man. “Do not pass out on me now, kiddo. Here.” Heero gathered up Duo’s loose, waist-length hair, coiling it up quickly and shoving it down the back of his jacket, then tugged the helmet out of his numb fingers and over his head. “Get on behind me and hold on. Okay?” 

“O-okay…” He found himself agreeing. The man nodded and closed the front faceshield for him, then smoothly straddled the bike. It took two tries and a steadying hand from the other man before he could manage to straddle the motorcycle behind Heero. 

No… this isn’t okay…what the fuck are you doing? Why are you going with him? The small voice of reason was drowned out by the loud engine as the motorcycle coughed to life, and his head split open. 

He was only dimly aware of his hands being pulled around the man and held firmly for a moment. Some last instinct for self-preservation took hold, and he held on for dear life as the bike shot out of the driveway and into the street. Closing his eyes and resting the front of his helmet against the man’s back, he concentrated only on staying alive.

It was almost a shock when the bike stopped. He sat, dazed by the deafening silence, until Heero turned around the on the bike to look at him. “You have to get off now…”

He turned his head, staring at an unfamiliar parking garage. “This… isn’t my dorm.”

“I know. I told you I had to make a stop first, remember?”

He nodded, not sure if he remembered or not… but finally managed to get off the motorcycle. Heero swung off much more gracefully, and tugged the helmet over his head. Leaving both helmets hanging carelessly over the handgrips, he caught one of Duo’s hands and pulled him after him towards the entrance to a nondescript, gray stone building. 

“Where are we?”

“Preventer’s Headquarters.” 

Duo’s eyes widened, but he was given no more time to protest before being dragged through the door and down a long hallway. Several men in uniform passed them, though no one stopped them. Heero steered him into an elevator, propping him in a corner as several people got on after them.

“Yuy… isn’t he a little young, even for you?” 

“Shut up, Chang,” Heero growled, and Duo realized suddenly that the comment had been directed at his companion. “Duo? You still with me here…?”

He blinked up at the man, barely hearing him over of the roaring in his ears. The doors opened abruptly, though his stomach was still convinced the car was in motion. Heero pulled him out, and through a large room filled with desks and Preventer’s agents, even though only half of them appeared to be wearing uniforms. On the far side of the room was a series of glass walled offices. Heero headed directly for one of those, ignoring the comments and questions of the agents around them. 

Duo blinked as Heero opened the door to the largest office without knocking, and shoved him inside. He stumbled to a halt in front of a large desk, and under the bemused eyes of a tall red-haired man with cold blue eyes. Those eyes held him pinned helplessly in place as the man spoke, though it was obvious that he was speaking to Heero.

“Yuy? What are you doing here? And who’s… this?”

“This is Duo.” Heero sighed behind him. “He needs a full rape screen.”

Duo blinked, unable to hear what the man’s response to that was. He wanted to turn his head, to look at Heero… but the desk was suddenly leaping for his face. And then everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Treize Khushrenada leaned back in his chair, watching silently as the medical team swept out of his office with a barely conscious Duo Maxwell. Heero Yuy sat hunched over in a chair across from his desk, studiously ignoring everything around him. 

Treize had been startled when Heero barged into his office, half dragging a tousled young man with him; that surprise had only deepened when Heero requested a full rape screen for his partner, who then proceeded to pass out on his desk. It was the final announcement that had pushed the scene into the surreal; Yuy was placing himself in his superior officer’s custody until the rape investigation had been completed, as he had had sex with the rape victim the previous night.

Frowning a little more, Treize rubbed at his temples in a futile attempt to stave off the rapidly evolving headache. The situation showed no signs of approaching normal either, as Yuy had followed his announcement by producing the victim’s underwear from his jacket pocket, along with a bottle of something he was _sure_ he didn’t want on his desk, and offered to provide any necessary DNA evidence. 

Though he didn’t know why he wasn’t expecting something of the sort with this investigation. It’s not as if Yuy’s team was known for following the rules during an investigation, and if Yuy was sleeping with suspects…he didn’t even want to know what Barton and Catalonia were doing.

“So,” Treize finally broke the silence, when it was clear that his agent was not going to speak first. “Quite the entrance, Yuy. Want to tell me about it?”

“You’re giving me the option of not?” Heero glanced up for the first time. Dark blue eyes, normally cold and unflappable, met his with more than a trace of pain and unease. 

“No.” Treize shook his head. “You’re supposed to be investigating the students at Romefeller University for narcotics… not sleeping with them… and most definitely not sleeping with them while they are under the influence of an unknown date-rape drug.”

“No sir.” Heero looked back down at his hands. “Am I being taken off the case?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Treize folded his hands on the desk, since holding onto his aching head wasn’t helping. “For one thing, you are part of my best, if most unorthodox team. While I may question your methods, they do tend to be successful. And if, as you claim, this young man was under the influence of a new type of date rape drug … then it is entirely likely that without this incident we never would have found out about it. However, if it does turn out that you raped that young man…and he presses charges… then that record will not be enough to save you. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good,” Treize sighed. “So tell me your side of this.”

“We’ve been trying to find who has been supplying the students with Ice. We’ve identified about four possible sources… but can’t seem to get close to any of them. Dorothy managed to score invitations to an off campus party thrown by some minor players in the scene. We didn’t really expect to find out much, but it was a good chance to be seen.”

“And…?” Treize prompted quietly, not having heard anything yet that had not been in the last mission report. 

“And the party was crashed by one of our suspects, and some of his friends.” Heero closed his eyes. “Duo Maxwell was part of that group.”

“So… you decided to try and get close to this suspect by sleeping with one of his friends?”

“I didn’t start out with that intent. It just… sort of happened. We were talking… we started dancing…things just clicked.” Heero shrugged, flushing just a little. 

Treize shook his head a little, leaning back in his chair again as he studied his agent. He expected this from Catalonia. It wouldn’t even surprise him about Barton. But he had to admit, this was a new low for Yuy. He spent a moment trying to wrap his thoughts around the mental image of Heero Yuy, flirting with another man at a party. And dancing. 

“If you thought he was a suspect… why the hell have you broken cover to bring him here?”

“Because last night at the party, he was flirting, laughing and having a good time. And when he woke up this morning… it was…” Heero broke off. “He claims he doesn’t use drugs. And he doesn’t remember anything at all from Thursday afternoon on. What else was I supposed to do?”

“No… you did the right thing. He’s either a victim, or a damn good actor. Either way, we’ll find out before we release him again.” Treize sighed again. “So why were you dancing with him, rather than Catalonia?”

“Dorothy knows his roommate, Nichol. They were talking and flirting casually. He introduced us.”

“I thought you were supposed to be her boyfriend as well as her drug connection?” Treize raised one eyebrow at his agent. “Since you aren’t actually enrolled at the university.”

“We… have an open relationship. And strategic breakups can be useful.” Heero shrugged, managing to keep a straight face. “I’m still her dealer. Besides. We’re looking to buy, not sell. It seemed a good way to broaden our appeal. And so far, Nichol is the closest we’ve been able to get to any of our sources. It seemed prudent to let her develop that relationship if possible. ”

“I don’t even want to know.” Treize rubbed his eyes as he picked up the phone. “Merquise… I need Barton and Catalonia in my office in fifteen minutes.” Hanging up again, he went back to watching his agent fidget. Considering that he had never before seen Yuy anything other than cool and collected, it was an interesting sight. 

 

***

It was closer to forty-five minutes before either Dorothy Catalonia or Trowa Barton stumbled through the door to Treize Khushrenada’s office. Both looked less than happy to be awake, and given that Heero claimed to have left the party before either of his partners, somehow that fact did not surprise Treize any. Both agents eyed their motionless partner with something resembling wary surprise, then looked from him to their boss expectantly. 

“Yuy. Go to medical. They’ll be ready for you now. You’d better have a full screen as well.”

“Sir.” Heero didn’t even glance at his two partners as he left the office, and they looked at each other nervously. 

“Sir?” Dorothy finally ventured, breaking the tense silence that fell after the unusually subdued agent left. He could see the deep concern that both of the remaining field agents were attempting to hide as they took their positions in front of his desk.

“Sit down.” Treize gestured at the chairs across from him. “This is probably going to take a while.” They dropped into the waiting chairs, neither speaking. He let them wait, studying them silently. 

This team never failed to both exasperate and amaze him, and this time was no different. There was no reason that they should manage to work so well together. Nothing in their backgrounds, personalities or psychological profiles provided any common ground what so ever; Barton was a former thief, Yuy was a military brat that had been raised on a succession of bases around the world, and Catalonia was a disillusioned debutante. Yet the three agents had rapidly become an inseparable team. He just hoped the rumors that the three were closer than partners ought to be was just that, a rumor. 

“So,” Both agents jumped slightly, as he broke the silence. He would have been amused if it wasn’t a telling sign of how worried they were. “Tell me about the party last night.”

“Sir?” Dorothy finally ventured, glancing hesitantly at Trowa. “What exactly is this about?”

“Tell me about the party first,” Treize repeated. “I’ll explain once I hear your side of this mess. And I suggest you don’t leave anything out. Yuy’s career might just rest on it.”

“It was… a typical college party,” Dorothy finally said, though Treize did not miss the quick glances she exchanged with Barton. “Lots of drinking and sex. Surprisingly little drugs though, considering some of the people in attendance have the reputation as hardcore dealers on campus.”

“Including you three?”

“Yes sir,” Trowa shrugged. “We’re still new though. I think they’re just feeling us out.”

Treize nodded thoughtfully. “That would make sense… you three are an unknown quantity.”

“Which is why we thought it important to go and just hang out,” Dorothy added.

“By hanging out… you would include dancing with, and sleeping with suspects?”

They both froze, staring at him for a moment. “If necessary,” Dorothy finally sighed. “Why was Yuy here? Did something happen?”

“You haven’t spoken to him since he left the party last night?”

“No sir.”

Treize sat back in the chair. “Tell me about Duo Maxwell.”

“Who?” Trowa shook his head a little.

“Duo…?” To his surprise, Dorothy froze and a crease appeared between her brows. “What happened?”

“That is what I’m trying to find out. According to Yuy, you’ve been hanging out with his roommate. I assume you must have met him before, then.”

“Briefly. He apparently spends a lot of time in the library studying. I think Nichol said he’s on a full scholarship and he’s got to maintain perfect grades to keep it too.” She sighed. “The boy is damn fine, though I wouldn’t have guessed him for gay, even with that hair.”

“Oh, that one,” Trowa nodded. “Fine is not the word I would have used.”

Treize raised one eyebrow eloquently, and they both straightened nervously. “So…? You’ve been investigating Nichol, and he brought Duo to the party last night...”

“No.” Dorothy blinked. “They didn’t come together. Duo was with Mueller and a group of other people. Nichol was actually a little pissed to see him there, though I have no idea why.” She frowned thoughtfully. “And Nichol isn’t exactly the one we’ve been investigating. He uses, yes. But he doesn’t deal. Some of his friends, however, are less than savory, and according to rumor, very high up on the food chain. They’re also much less approachable. So far… the only one of that group I’ve managed to get close to at all is Nichol.”

“What exactly was this Nichol’s reaction to seeing Duo at the party?”

“He pulled him aside, and they were arguing about something for a while. I couldn’t get close enough to hear though; eventually Nichol seemed to get over whatever it was, but he kept Duo pretty close to him for a while. I signaled Heero to come join us, since it was kind of hard to put the moves on Nichol with his somewhat inebriated roommate sitting right there. It’s hard enough when it’s just the two of us. Now that boy just might be gay….”

“Dorothy—”

“Right. Anyway, Heero came over, and I introduced him to Nichol and Duo. We did the normal chatting thing, then Heero asked Duo to dance.” She grinned. “It made my night, that’s for sure, especially since I ended up going home alone. I don’t know if you have ever seen Heero dance, but it’s definitely a sight worth watching.”

Trowa chuckled darkly. “That wasn’t dancing. But the end of the second song, they were practically having sex on the dance floor.”

“Oh, yeah.” Dorothy retreated into the memory for a moment, then sighed. “They left not long after. Since we were only at the party to make our presence known… we didn’t think it was any big deal. Nichol was all wound up about something, though he didn’t try to stop Duo from leaving with Heero. He left not long after they did. Trowa and I hung out a little longer, probably until about 4 a.m.”

“Was Duo drinking much at the party? You mentioned he was inebriated.”

“A little.” Dorothy frowned, trying to remember. “Maybe a beer or two. I got the impression that Mueller’s group had been drinking before they got to the party though. Duo was a little unsteady on his feet when they first got there.”

“Why the interest in Duo Maxwell?” Trowa turned serious green eyes on Treize. “And why was Heero heading to Medical?”

“Duo Maxwell… woke up this morning with a severe hangover and no memory of the last two days. He didn’t take it well.”

“Oh…shit.”

“Yeah. ‘Oh…shit’ is right.” Treize scowled. “Especially since your hunch that he isn’t gay is correct. He was a little freaked to wake up in bed with a man.”

Both of them winced. “How’s Heero taking it?”

“He is suspecting a new form of date-rape drug. Which would make sense… except that if Heero did not give it to him, who did? And why would they let him go home with a stranger, if they intended to make use of it themselves? For that matter, why give it to him, if they didn’t intend to make use of it?”

“A prank?”

“A damned dangerous prank, given the persona Yuy is using at the moment. Most drug dealers would be less than amused.”

“You think maybe Nichol knew something was wrong?” Trowa mused. “And that was why he was pissed off when Duo showed up?”

“Again, it would make sense… but why would he let Duo go home with Yuy? It had to be pretty obvious they were leaving together.”

“It was,” Dorothy muttered grimly. “It was also pretty obvious what they were leaving to do. And before you ask, there was no indication that Duo wasn’t completely in favor of that idea.”

“Good.” Treize toyed with a pen on his desk. “I’m not sure what to do about your investigation, since a large part of the decision will depend on whether or not Maxwell presses charges. Even if he doesn’t, I don’t like the idea of you three going back in there with your covers compromised. Especially if Maxwell is friendly with one of your suspects.”

“We may not have a choice,” Trowa said grimly. Two sets of blue eyes locked on him questioningly. “You said he doesn’t remember the last two days. I would assume that also includes whoever gave him the alleged drug in the first place.”

“So?”

“So… there’s nothing to stop them from doing it again.”

“You said he and Mueller were with a group of people. I want information on everyone that arrived at that party with them,” Treize frowned, then waved them out of his office. 

***

Treize took a deep breath, then followed Dr. Po into the exam room where Duo Maxwell was waiting. The young man was sitting hunched on the table, frowning down at his hands when they entered. He was still wearing Yuy’s t-shirt, and the loose fit made him look even younger than his nineteen years.

“Duo Maxwell…” Treize held out one hand as wary eyes met his. “I’m Treize Khushrenada, Commander of Preventers Section 4.”

“Hi,” Duo muttered, and then looked away without shaking his hand. “I want to go home now.”

“I know. We just have a few questions we need to ask you first.”

“Am I under arrest?”

“No. Of course not,” Treize sighed heavily, as he sat down in the chair against the wall. “Dr. Po?”

“Duo, we are still waiting for the last few tests to be completed. Those will likely take a day or so. I believe the nurse has taken your contact information so that we can get a hold of you when the results come in… but we have enough information right now to determine a few things.”

“Like what?” Duo glanced back at them, his eyes haunted. “That I was raped? I figured that one out real fast. Does he have to be here?” His eyes moved to Treize nervously.

“Yes. I know this is difficult, Duo.”

“Yeah,” he snorted. “So… what?”

She glanced at the chart in her hand, then set it aside. “We found DNA evidence during the exam that you were with… at least three men in the last thirty-six hours. So far there is no evidence that you have contracted anything from them, but I am going to prescribe a fairly strong combination of antibiotics and antiviral medication for the next two weeks, just to be safe….” Her voice trailed off as Duo swayed. 

“Three?” His eyes glazed over slightly. “Oh God. Who…?”

“We don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“What about…about the guy who…brought me….”

“None of the traces matched with Heero Yuy’s DNA, but he claims he used protection.”

If possible, Duo grew even paler. “So I had sex with at least four men…and I don’t remember any of it…”

“We discovered traces of a fairly potent drug in your bloodstream.” Sally Po put a hand on his shoulder. “From what preliminary analysis has found… it has three distinct properties. The first is that it is a stimulant. You would have been very receptive to physical contact while under its influence, even to the point of seeking it out. It also acted as a neural inhibitor.”

“A what…?”

“Neural inhibitor… it prevented the brain from recording any information into your short term memory. We don’t know yet if that is permanent, or if the signals have just been scrambled temporarily. Only time will tell if you will ever remember what has happened in the last two days. But the good news is that that effect seems to have mostly worn off. You should have no trouble remembering anything that has happened to you since you woke up this morning.”

Duo swallowed hard, then glanced up bleakly. “You…said three effects?”

“The third thing is that the drug acts to suppress the chemicals in the brain that… control our conscious mind. While you were perfectly lucid, and conscious of everything that was happening around you while under the influence of the drug, certain learned and cultural responses would have been… impaired.”

“What does that mean?” He shook his head, looking more than a little dazed. “I… I don’t understand.”

“It means that your inhibitions were lowered.”

“And that’s why I didn’t object to being raped?”

“That’s why you probably didn’t know it was rape.” She sighed. “Duo. I know that you don’t consider yourself to be gay. But this drug would not… influence you to the point of changing your orientation. It would just make it more likely that you would act on your subconscious rather than your conscious...”

“You’re saying I asked for it.”

“No. What happened wasn’t your fault. Unless you consciously took this drug on your own, in which case you would most likely remember doing so… none of this was your fault.”

“So… you think I’m gay and just in denial.”

“I am saying that your subconscious was probably not that picky about the gender of your partner, as long as you were enjoying the physical contact.” She sighed. “And it would have still been rape if you had slept with three women, since you were involuntarily under the influence of a drug and therefore it was not consensual.”

“Even if I said yes while under the influence?”

“That is where this becomes very sticky,” Treize spoke up for the first time. “Since at least one of your partners was unaware that you were under the influence of a drug… he took your consent at face value. And since there were a number of witnesses to that fact, a conviction if you pressed charges would probably not be possible. It is a fair bet that at least one of your partners was the person who drugged you. If we had some way of finding out who that was, and getting proof that they did so with malicious intent… then the possibility of pressing charges becomes much greater. It… is entirely possible that that is why you were taken to the party, so that you would not wake up in the bed of the person who administered the drug.”

Duo looked away from them, staring blankly at the wall. “So… I’m pretty much stuck with just living with the consequences then. And pretending that none of this happened.”

“Until your memory of what happened returns, I’m afraid so,” Treize sighed. 

“Is H-Heero Yuy actually… a Preventer?”

“Yes. He is.”

“So… why was he at that party?”

“We are currently conducting an investigation into the traffic of Ice at Romefeller University…”

“Ice?” Duo laughed shortly. “You might as well arrest half the student body there, though I sure as hell don’t know who’s selling it. He… he thought I was an addict?”

“No,” Treize said quietly. “Though several of your acquaintances are under suspicion.”

“If I’m not under arrest…why are you telling me this?”

“We need your help.”

“My help?” Duo threw him a look to total disbelief. “I’m a freshman. What the hell could I possibly help you with? I’m not ratting out my friends…”

“We don’t expect you to,” Treize reassured him quietly. “We just…need your silence regarding the fact that there is an investigation going on.”

“While you investigate people I know. Right.” Duo frowned. “And what do I get in return for this silence?”

“Protection.”

“I don’t need…” He broke off, coming to the same realization that Trowa had. “You think they’ll do this again?”

“It is possible, yes. They got away with it once, as far as they know.”

“Since I can’t press charges… I’d have to say they know right,” Duo muttered sourly. 

“We want to find who did this to you… so that we can keep it from happening to anyone else.”

“Yeah. I guess I can respect that… ‘cause it damn sure sucks as far as I can tell.” Duo sighed. “And if I say no?”

“We would be forced to take you into protective custody for the duration of the investigation. For your own safety, of course. You _were_ assaulted once already.” 

Duo stared at him for a long moment, then sighed and looked down at his hands again. “Okay… whatever. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you.” 

“Can I go home now?” Duo asked plaintively.

Treize hesitated, watching the young man for a long moment. “There is one other thing…”

“What?” Duo could apparently sense the hesitation, and scowled at him nervously. “I agreed to keep your secret. What?”

“You left the party with Heero Lowe. It would look… odd if someone else was to take you home.”

Treize winced at the brief flash of panic on the boy’s face. “I… can’t I just take a cab or something?”

“He has agreed to take you home. Also, as the head of the investigation… he will be on campus frequently. If that is going to be a problem, we need to know it now, Duo.”

“Is… he the one who is going to be… watching over me?”

“It would be the best solution. Since a number of people saw you hooking up with him at the party, it does give him a valid reason to hang around you.”

“Which, of course, makes it easier for him to spy on my friends.” 

“If they are dealing drugs on campus, it is our job to stop them.”

Duo just sighed and looked away wearily. “Yeah. Whatever.”


	3. Chapter 3

_Oh can’t you see the morning after?_  
_It’s waiting right outside the storm_  
_Why don’t we cross the bridge together_  
_And find a place that’s safe and warm?_ \-- The Morning After, by Maureen McGovern

**Chapter 3**

Heero heard the soft footsteps coming down the hall, but didn’t look up until they stopped before him. Treize nodded to him as he more or less deposited Duo Maxwell back into his care, then stepped away. The young man stared nervously up at him from beneath long bangs, tugging absently on the long braid hanging over one shoulder. 

“How are you feeling?” Heero broke the silence when Duo showed no indication of speaking to him.

His only answer was a shrug. Wary eyes raked over him, then dropped again.

“I suppose we should start over,” Heero pushed on, determined not to let his companion’s silence get to him. “I’m Heero Yuy. Though I suppose you had better get used to calling me Heero Lowe.”

“You already know my name.” The sullen response would have amused him, if the situation had not been so grim.

“Yes.” Heero smiled a little sadly. “Are you hungry yet? Or did Po feed you?”

“Who?”

“Sally Po. The Doctor.”

“Oh. Right,” Duo shrugged, outwardly nonchalant, but Heero could hear his stomach growling. “I just want to go home…”

“Alright.” Pushing off the wall he’d been leaning against, Heero waved a hand down the hall. “The parking garage is that way. But lunch is my treat if you change your mind.”

“Why? ‘Cause you feel guilty?”

“Because you haven’t eaten anything since last night. I figured you might be hungry by now. And I had promised you breakfast last night. But… well.”

“Yeah,” Duo mumbled. Heero led the way down the hall, guessing that Duo might feel more comfortable behind him than in front.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” 

“Huh?” Duo stopped in his tracks. “That’s none of your...”

Heero glanced over his shoulder at him. “Business? As long as I’m playing your new boyfriend, it is. Details like that can get… sticky otherwise.”

“Playing my boyfriend?” Duo took a step back. “Whoa. Hold up there. No one said anything about you pretending to be my… my… uh-uh. No way.”

“Duo—” Heero turned to face the younger man with a sigh. “What did you think? That I was just going to hover around you from a distance?”

“I… I don’t…I don’t want to do this, okay? But I don’t want to be locked up here in protective custody until I rot either.”

“Look, this isn’t going to be a cakewalk for me either. Yes, I feel bad about what happened. I’ll feel worse if whoever did this to you tries it again. And I really doubt you want anyone else to wake up like you did this morning.”

“That’s really not fair.” Duo rubbed his head wearily. 

“Life isn’t fair,” Heero shrugged. “It’s true though. I’m not trying to make this harder on you. I do, however, think you’re in danger.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Right.” Heero didn’t point out that so far, that hadn’t been terribly successful. “As for lunch…it’s an offer of food, nothing more.” 

Duo hesitated, looking oddly forlorn, as he stood in the center of the empty hallway. Then, with a reluctant sigh, he nodded faintly. “Okay. You owe me a hell of a lot more than food…but I am kinda hungry.”

*******

Heero watched his companion fidget across from him in the booth. The younger man was carefully ignoring him as they waited for the waitress to bring the food. He had barely looked at Heero since they sat down, and Heero found himself hoping for glimpses of the dark blue eyes through straggling bangs. Duo was slender, and almost four inches shorter than he was; wearing Heero’s clothes, he looked like a child. The pinched misery on his face made him look even younger. At the party he’d been vibrant, laughing and joking with Heero; even flirting shyly. Somehow, this silent, withdrawn person sitting across from Heero seemed wrong. Still beautiful enough to tempt a saint, which Heero was most definitely not, but it was like looking at a painting behind glass; faded and too far away to touch.

“So what are you studying?”

“Huh?” Duo jumped, looking up at him blankly.

“At Romefeller. What are you studying?”

“Oh…” Duo blinked. “Why?”

“Just making conversation, kid.” Heero resisted the desire to roll his eyes with an effort.

“Stop calling me that,” Duo muttered sulkily. “I’m not a kid. How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

“Huh. No wonder that guy thought you were cradle-robbing,” Duo snorted, and went back to studying his silverware. 

Heero kept his face neutral, and debated the merits of punching Chang the next time he saw him. Nah, he decided with a silent sigh. It wasn’t worth the hassle with Noin and Merquise.

“Accounting.” 

This time it was Heero’s turn to start in surprise. He hadn’t actually expected the kid… Duo… to answer his question. “Number crunching, huh?” He smiled a little. “Sounds interesting.”

“Yeah,” Duo threw him the sort of look you give a lunatic, then looked away again.

“You don’t think so? Why study it then?”

“Father… Father Maxwell wanted me to be able to get a good, steady job,” Duo shrugged. “And since a bunch of the people at the church are helping to pay for my schooling…”

“What would you like to study?” Heero sat back in his booth, and watched the younger man curiously. Church, hmm? He thought about the implications of the kid’s words for a moment. Is that the reason he is so damn sure he isn’t gay?

Duo threw him a confused look, then flushed. Heero wondered if anybody had ever thought to ask that question before. “Geology.”

“Good jobs in that field too,” Heero mused quietly.

“Yeah… maybe,” Duo sighed. “But it’s not as easy to get a good job. It’s not like they can get away with supporting me indefinitely.” He shrugged. “I think Father is hoping I’ll come back and work at the…” He trailed off with an embarrassed shrug.

“Work at the where?”

Duo blushed and looked away. “At the orphanage.”

Heero just watched him steadily. “And is that what you want?”

“I don’t know,” Duo frowned at him. “Besides, what the hell do you care?”

“Have I really given you the impression that I’m a complete asshole?”

Duo just shrugged. “Maybe not a _complete_ asshole.” He looked away. “A slut maybe.”

“I see.” Heero didn’t say anything else for a while, looking away from his companion and studying the glass of water in front of him. 

“Shit. I’m sorry,” Duo finally muttered. “I-- I guess I have no room to talk on that one… I just--I-- this is all… really… freaking me out. Y’know?”

“I understand,” Heero smiled at him. “I would be freaked too. I guess I am a little freaked by the situation as well.”

“Well… yeah,” Duo sighed. “Guess you haven’t had a lot of one night stands that forget everything that happened the night before, huh?”

“No. I’ve managed to avoid that up until now.” 

“Yeah.” 

The waitress arrived with the food then, rescuing them from conversation for a little while. Heero bit into his hamburger hungrily, watching as Duo picked at his fries halfheartedly. 

“What?” Heero finally asked quietly.

“I just—well. How is this gonna work? You know…?”

“How is what going to work?”

“This whole… pretending thing.” Duo blushed again. “I mean, anyone that knows me well is gonna be suspicious. I don’t exactly make it a… habit to go out with drug dealers. Male drug dealers, especially.”

“Hm,” Heero shrugged. “That could be a problem.” 

“This isn’t gonna work,” Duo sighed. “I can’t just… I don’t want to be…all…”

“All what?”

“I don’t think I can-- be all-- touchy-feely or anything like that. With you.” He poked the pile of french fries on his plate distractedly. “And I really suck at lying.”

“Hm.” 

“That’s it?” Duo blinked up at him. “Hm?”

“Have you dated a lot of girls?”

“What?” Duo sighed. “No. Not really. A few.”

“And how much attention do most people pay to your sexual preferences?”

“How the hell should I know? But I’ve…turned down a few guys.”

“Ah,” Heero frowned at him speculatively.

“What’s with the one syllable words, huh?” 

“Do you have any idea who would have given you this drug?”

“No!” Duo scowled. “I’m not exactly going to hang out with someone that is going to drug me…”

“What about your roommate?”

“Huh? Nichol?” Duo blinked. “I… we aren’t like… close friends or anything. He’s a lot older than I am. I got the impression that I annoy him. He said I was too pure or something like that. He mostly ignores me.”

Odd, Heero thought, that’s not the impression I got at the party. He seemed almost protective of Duo when the kid showed up.

“What about the guys you came to the party with?”

“I don’t know how I got to the party.” Duo scowled, and prodded the hamburger on his plate with a fork. “So I have no idea who I came with.”

“Mueller Dietrich… Otto Fehr… Lance Orbison… Trey Atwood.” Heero saw the shocked look on Duo’s face, and filed that away for later inspection. “And assorted dates.”

“Uh… I know who Mueller and Otto are… they hang around Nichol some,” Duo shrugged. “They’ve never paid much attention to me, and Nichol doesn’t exactly seem to want me to join in if they’re around.” He stiffened. “Alex- Alex asked me out once. I thought he was just joking around. He was pretty crude, and Nichol made some joke about him being desperate ‘cause his girlfriend was holding out on him.”

“Who’s Alex?”

“Mueller’s brother. He rooms with Otto, over in Hardison.” Duo blinked. “I don’t exactly hang around with any of them. They kinda gave me the creeps, y’know?”

“I can understand that.” Heero frowned thoughtfully, wishing more pieces of the puzzle would fall into his lap before they had to try this. “Do you have a lot of close friends on campus?”

Duo looked startled by the question, then blinked. “No. Not really. Most of the people here are really well off. The local orphan charity case doesn’t really fit their list of up and coming people to schmooze with.”

“Hm.”

“Back to the short answers again… what?”

“People saw us hook up, but a lot of them were probably drunk at the time. And since I left with you, rather than my girlfriend….”

“You have a girlfriend?”

Heero just threw him a pointed look. “You’ve met her. Dorothy Calhoun.”

“The one that’s been chasing…oh.”

“The same,” Heero smiled thinly. “Stop stabbing the hamburger and eat it, Duo.”

Duo flushed and set the fork down guiltily, finally reaching out to pick up the well-ventilated hamburger and take a bite. 

“So given that you don’t sleep around a lot, and never with guys, whoever did this… if they were at the party… would probably guess what your reaction to waking up the next morning in a stranger’s bed would be.”

“So?”

“So… the fact that I’m not really what I am pretending to be is probably the only thing that saved you from some pretty nasty consequences.”

“You’re losing me here.”

“I have the reputation of being… unpleasant to cross. Waking up and accusing me of rape… would probably not have gone over well.”

“It didn’t go over all that well…” Duo muttered.

“No. It didn’t,” Heero said with a shrug. “But it could have been much worse, given some of the addicts and dealers I’ve met before.”

“And…?”

“So, you don’t need to act all that differently than you are now.”

“Which is?”

“Somewhat hostile and reluctant… and afraid I’ll beat the crap out of you if you fight too much.” Duo’s eyes widened dramatically and the hamburger slipped back to the plate with a soft plop. “And I’ll be intrigued by the challenge, and too amused to let you go easily. Dorothy will have a good time spreading rumors of what a possessive bastard I am when something… pretty… catches my interest.”

“And this is going to help you figure out who drugged me?” Duo finally managed to ask his voice sounding a little hoarse. “You just arrest the person laughing their ass off, right?”

“I’m hoping it convinces them that messing with you is a bad idea, now that I’ve taken an interest.”

“Oh…” Duo looked down at his plate, though Heero could see the blush spreading across his face. “And what about when your case is done and you leave?”

“The case isn’t going to be done if we don’t find out who drugged you.”

“Oh.”


	4. Chapter 4

Nichol glanced up with a scowl as Mueller and Alex dropped into the seats on either side of him. Alex grinned at the look, picking a potato chip off of his plate and eating it with relish.

“What’s the matter, Nicky? You look tired. Roommate keeping you up all night?” Mueller asked with a smirk.

“I don’t know— If I had a roommate like that- I’d be keeping him up all night instead.”

“Keep your fucking hands off of him, Alex.” Nichol pushed the tray out of his reach. “Both of you. He’s just a kid.”

“Yeah,” Mueller nodded, attempting to look serious and failing as he started grinning again. Nichol could tell he was high as a kite. 

“A kid… but damn he’s got a fine ass.” Alex giggled a little.

“I’m warning you, Alex… hands off. Don’t fucking play your games with him again.”

“Ah-- what’s a matter? He doesn’t come home for a couple nights and you get all protective? Maybe you should be warning off his new boyfriend instead of us.” Mueller’s grin became razor-edged. “But then… Lowe might notice you making time with his girl then, huh?”

“We were just talking.” 

“Sure you were.” Alex pretended to look hurt. “I thought you’d thank us, man. Providing a distraction like that… so that you and Dot could groove a little.”

“Dorothy. And you two-- stay away from both of them. I’m serious.”

“Oh, I’m so scared.” Mueller snorted. “You aren’t gonna do shit. You can’t, and you know it.”

“Maybe not.” Nichol stood up with a snarl. “But do you really want to find out? Maybe I’ve decided I’ve got nothing left to lose.”

“I don’t know… looks to me like you still have a few things you could lose. Though I’d be careful of moving in on a dealer’s whore, y’know? You don’t have a good track record with that kind of thing.”

“Don’t touch them, Mueller.”

“Oooh. Hit a nerve with that one, huh Alex?”

“Yeah. Huh. And here I thought you were gonna pine for Syl your whole damn life.”

Nichol shuddered as anger turned his vision white. Through the roaring in his ears, he could almost hear Sylvia’s voice pleading with him to walk away. But his response now was the same it had been then…it was too damn late to walk away. 

“Fuck you both,” Nichol growled, before forcing the anger down. “And that warning goes to Otto too. Nobody better think about touching Maxwell again.”

“Yeah. Whatever…” Mueller’s voice sobered suddenly. “But one of these days… you’re gonna get it through your head that this isn’t a game. You can’t just quit when you feel like it. There’s only one way out… and that’s the way Sylvia took.”

“Be a good boy, Nicky. And maybe the priests and nuns at that orphanage won’t find out the sort of education their money is paying for…” Alex leered at him. “’Cause you step out of line… and he’s mine. Got it?”

Not bothering to answer, Nichol turned away.

***

There was still no sign of Duo in their dorm room, even though it was after two in the afternoon. Swallowing the sick feeling that had been building since Duo had failed to come back to the dorm on Thursday night, he forced himself to straighten up the mess on his half of the room. Duo’s side was always neat, a fact the younger man had jokingly attributed to spending most of his life being raised by nuns. Nuns. Good God-- the kid was innocent. How the hell had things gone so wrong so damn fast?

There was no answer, but then, he’d never expected one. He had no illusions that Duo's god would give a flying fuck about him; not when he had obviously been born damned.

He was startled out of his thoughts by a soft knock on the door. He found himself praying it was Duo, and that the younger man had lost his keys sometime in the last two days. He certainly wasn’t wearing all of his own clothes at the party last night, so it was always a possibility. That hope was stillborn as he opened the door to see Dorothy. 

“Oh… hey.” 

“Ah… just what every girl wants to hear when she knocks on a cute guy’s door.” She frowned up at him. “You look stressed. Anything I can help with?”

“No. I’m fine.” Stepping back a little, he managed a faint attempt at civility. “Come in.”

“Thanks.” She stepped into the room and plopped down on his bed. “Though if this is a bad time…?”

“No.” He forced a smile onto his face. “It’s good timing, actually. I wanted to ask you…”

“Yes…?” 

“You and Heero Lowe. He’s not…”

“Not what?” She looked at him intently. “Not gonna be jealous? Not going to break your roommate’s heart?”

“Shit… both of those. And neither.”

“Heero is possessive, cold, a bit of a bastard…” She shrugged. “He’s also fucking amazing in bed, has a fetish for long hair and a weakness for cute guys. Which is, of course, part of why our relationship is ...estranged... at the moment.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“I also have a weakness for cute guys.” Her smile turned feral. “Though sometimes we have a different idea of what that is. You, for example, are not his type at all. Though very definitely mine.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t look reassured.” She stood up, moving across the room to put her hands on his shoulders. “Don’t worry. He’s not the abusive type. Unless he gets really pissed off.”

“Great.” He didn’t react to her touch, lost in his own thoughts.

“You’re really worried about Duo…” She frowned, stepping back a little. 

“He’s just a kid— and grew up kind of sheltered. I’m not sure Lowe… is really…well… the kind of person he is looking for a relationship with.”

“Ah.” She frowned, turning away. “I’m a little surprised you let him go home with Heero last night then.”

“I’m not his keeper.” Despite the casual words to her, he couldn’t escape the voice in his head telling him she was right. Maybe he should have stopped him. Should have done something else. He sighed. Yeah, right. Like what? It was already too late to protect him from Alex…but last night, all he could think of was getting him out of Mueller’s hands and away from Otto. “You said before Lowe was possessive. Yet he really doesn’t care if you sleep around.”

“He doesn’t own me… and he knows I can look out for myself. If I need him—that’s a different matter.” She tilted her head to one side as she studied him. “He takes it really badly if anyone messes with someone under his protection.”

He glanced sharply at her, but managed to relax. He’d been hoping she would say that. Duo might hate him for it, but in Lowe’s bed was probably the safest place he could be right now. All Nichol could hope was that he never found out why— and that Lowe really was good enough to keep both Dorothy and Duo safe.

“I’m sorry. I guess… I’m not in the mood for company after all.” He shook his head. “This really is kind of a bad time.”

“Okay.” She frowned up at him, but moved to the door without a protest. “He really will be okay, Nichol.”

“Of course he will… I just have a lot of homework to get done.” He doubted she believed his words any more than he did.

He reached to open the door for her, only to step back at the sound of a key in the lock. A moment later, his errant roommate stepped wearily into the room. He looked pale and fatigued; the normally vibrant eyes were dulled now. 

“Duo…” He couldn’t help the wave of relief that washed over him. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Duo nodded, then saw Dorothy and shivered a little. “Um-- is this-- should I go?”

“No. I was just leaving,” She smiled at him. “You look tired. Long night?”

“Yeah.” Duo blushed suddenly, and then threw himself onto his bed; not even bothering to take off the too-large leather jacket he wore. 

“Take care of him…” She brushed light fingers over Nichol’s cheek. “He looks like he could use it.”

He didn’t comment, not sure what to say to her. When the door was closed and locked again, he moved over to stand by Duo’s bed. “Hey… are you really alright? I was starting to get worried, when you didn’t come home the other night.”

“‘M fine…” Duo mumbled, not moving from where his face was planted in his pillow. “Just want to sleep.”

“Alright,” Nichol sighed, then leaned over to tug the battered tennis shoes off. “Take off the jacket, you’ll be more comfortable.” He didn’t comment on the flinch as he touched his roommate. He would have been more surprised if Duo hadn’t reacted to his touch. Damn them all… there was no reason for this.

Duo shrugged out of the jacket with a squirm then lay still again. “Why…?”

“Why what?” Nichol hoped he’d managed to keep the guilt out of his voice. Does he know why this happened to him? Hell… does he even know what happened to him?

“Why’re… you being… so nice to me?”

“No reason.” He stepped away from the bed with a wince. “Go to sleep.”

“Yeah…”

***

Heero threw himself on the couch, staring blindly at the computer across the room. He knew he should be working on the case, or hacking something. Anything but sitting here fantasizing about wide blue eyes and long chestnut hair.

“You’ve got it bad, Yuy.” The voice startled him. His gun was out and aimed long before his brain caught up to the fact that it was Dorothy speaking. 

“Fuck… what are you doing here?” He looked up with a scowl as he lowered the gun again. She was standing in front of the coffee table, her hands on her hips.

“Keeping you from moping all evening.” Moving over to the couch, she shoved his legs off and sat down. “Don’t worry, Tro’s hovering protectively over the kid. But I doubt anything is going to happen. He looked pretty wiped out when he got home this afternoon. I doubt he’s going to stir out of his room again today.”

“That drug… it hit him hard.” Heero leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. “Dammit.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” He felt her fingers combing through his hair; for once the casual touch did not ease the tension twisting his muscles into knots. “You didn’t know he was drugged, Heero. You did not rape him.”

“Then why do I feel like an utter bastard?” He growled. “You didn’t see him this morning, Doro… he was…”

“Scared?” She sighed, and her fingers moved down to knead at his shoulders. He caught a lock of long, pale hair in his fingers, though his subconscious was wishing it was brown shot through with gold, and tugged until she gave up on getting him to relax.

“Yeah.” 

“You should have seen Nichol then.” She let go of him to pull the lock of hair away from his fingers with a mock scowl.

“What?” He glanced over at her in surprise. 

“That boy was pacing the floor like a nervous father about his daughter’s first date with a motorcycle gang leader. Asked a lot of questions about you.”

“Really.”

“Yeah. Really,” She sighed. “Oddly enough… the bit that actually made him relax was when I mentioned you were possessive and overprotective about the people under your protection.”

“Odd…”

“Isn’t it?” She shook her head. “Somehow, I got the feeling that he is not nearly as indifferent towards his roommate as we thought.”

“Hm. But is that a good thing? Or not?” Heero sighed. “God… this case has gone from normal to fucked in less than 12 hours. I think we’ve set a new record with this one.”

“It’s going to work out, Heero.” She reached over and prodded him. “Go take a shower or something… I’ll make dinner. Okay?”

“You don’t have to stay…”

“It’s fine.” She poked him again. “Go.”

“Thanks, Doro.” Leaning across the couch, he kissed her quickly, then stood up. “You might also want to change the sheets on the bed…”

“Eww. I’m not your maid, Yuy…”

“Are you sleeping on the couch tonight?”

“Um… only if you really insist,” She grimaced. “Fine. Go shower.”

“Thanks. For being here.” He turned in the doorway to watch her for a long moment. “I--guess I don’t really want to be alone tonight.”

She smiled at him sadly, but didn’t answer as she vanished into the kitchen. 

He took a slow shower, letting himself linger under the hot water longer than he normally did. By the time he finally emerged from the bathroom, Dorothy had set out platters of stir-fry and frozen appetizers on the coffee table, along with two pairs of chopsticks. 

“Haven’t you learned to cook anything else yet?” But he couldn’t help smiling a little at the familiar meal. It was one they’d shared frequently over the four years they’d been partners.

Dorothy just scowled and tossed a miniature eggroll at him. “We can’t all be masters of the kitchen like you. Besides… it beats the crap that Tro considers cooking.”

“There is that.” 

The conversation slowly faded, leaving only the comfortable silence of close friends; oddly, the fact that they had once been lovers as well made the silence more comforting than not. He knew she wasn’t expecting anything from him— that her presence here was out of friendship. He just hoped it would be enough to drive the image of frightened blue eyes away.


	5. Chapter 5

_It’s not too late_  
_We should be giving_  
_Only with love can we climb_ \-- The Morning After by Maureen McGovern

**Chapter 5**

The smell of coffee dragged Heero out of disturbed dreams. Blinking blearily in the bright light of morning, he spit out a mouthful of Dorothy’s hair and rolled over to find his nose pressed against the Apollo Coffee logo on a styrofoam cup. He blinked again, then reached out to take the coffee from Trowa as the tall, auburn-haired man raised a finger to his lips with a faint grin.

Struggling out of the confining tangle of sheets and blond hair, he took a grateful sip of the coffee; while Trowa picked up a second cup and moved around the futon bed to Dorothy’s side and held the cup close to her nose.

“Tro… you’re a god…” She muttered, taking the cup without opening her eyes. “What tim’zit?”

“Half past eight,” the tall man grinned at Heero, who slowly shook his head. “Don’t you have a nine o’clock class?”

“Shit!” She shot up out of the sheets, and only Heero’s quick reach saved his bed from being drowned in coffee. “I left clothes here, didn’t I?”

He gestured at the closet, but she’d already disappeared into the depths. The T-shirt and shorts she’d worn to bed the night before flew back out of the closet, landing by the foot of the bed. They were followed closely by three mismatched shoes.

“Relax… you’re a stoner, remember? No one will notice if you’re late….” Trowa eyed the shoes. “Nice selection, Heero. The blue one is new…?”

Heero rolled his eyes and flipped the other man off, but didn’t bother to say anything as he took another sip of coffee. For once, he couldn’t even muster the energy to be amused by the situation.

“Fuck you, Tro…” Her voice was muffled by the sweater she was pulling over her head, as she emerged from the closet and stepped into the two matching shoes. “Shit… my homework!”

“Your backpack is next to the door, and the essay is inside. Cathy said to hurry up and bust the bad guys… she hated Jordan’s class the first time around, and having to do the homework all over again is pissing her off.”

She finished tugging long blond hair out of the sweater, then planted a kiss on Trowa’s lips. “Give her that for me… See you guys…” With a swirl of hair and skirt, she was gone.

“I bet she doesn’t kiss you again, when she figures out it’s Sunday morning,” Heero observed dryly as he finished his coffee and eyed Dorothy’s abandoned cup. 

“It’s not my fault she wakes up slow,” Trowa shrugged, then flopped onto the bed in her place. “Besides… payback is a bitch. And she had this coming.”

“And so is she…” Heero heard the front door slam again. “I think she figured it out.”

“Nah… I left a note on her car window,” Trowa shrugged, quirking a half smile at Heero as he snuggled deeper into the pillow. “There is pissing her off… and then there is dangerously pissing her off.”

“And of course, you walk that fine line daily.” 

“You-- Barton-- are a fucking bastard.” Dorothy stalked back into the room and snatched her coffee from Heero before he could take more than a few sips of it. 

“Of course I am.” He grimaced as she shoved him over onto Heero’s lap and got back into the bed. “Hey… I brought you coffee, didn’t I?” Deciding the innocent look wasn’t working, he shrugged slightly and lay back across Heero’s legs. “Besides… you guys got to spend all night in a warm bed. Together. While I was out in the cold on the fire escape at Grover Hall.”

“And?” Heero winced a little at the concern in his own voice. “Besides… I heard you boot the computer at midnight. You weren’t out in the cold that long.”

“Nothing. But the insect Doro planted in Nichol’s and Duo’s room is working fine. Range is shorter than I would have liked, but very clear on campus. If they make a move on him in the room… we should hear it.” 

“Good.” Heero sighed. “Though assuming they’re going to make a move on him again, doing it in his room would be kind of stupid. Especially when they went to all the trouble of hiding their tracks last time.”

“You think it’s going to be that easy? You show up, act all possessive and the kid is safe?” Trowa threw him a skeptical look. “Nothing is ever that easy. They got away with it once. It’s going to make them cocky. Trust me.”

“Spoken like a true criminal,” Dorothy muttered into her coffee. 

“Ex-criminal…” He shook his head ruefully. “And believe me, I did learn the folly of returning to the scene of a crime, thanks to you two.”

“I’ll feel better when I know who did this.” Heero rubbed hair out of his eyes. “What else did you get?”

“The kid’s files from Romefeller, including grades and class schedule.

“Good.” Pushing Trowa off his lap and back to Dorothy’s side of the bed, Heero crawled off the futon and staggered for the bathroom. “I’ll try to find a way to get an insect onto him… and then we go back to working the original case.”

“Took care of that too.” Trowa grinned at Heero’s look of surprise. “I want my jacket back. You can give him the one in the living room. I already tested the receiver on it… and the range is better than the one in the room.”

“Why do I think you didn’t use a standard Preventer issue bug for that?” 

Trowa shrugged innocently. “I have no idea. It started out as a Preventer insect...”

“Yeah… then you got your hands on it…” Dorothy rejoined the conversation, having finished her communion with the coffee cup. “But seriously… that’s a good idea, giving him a jacket. Staking your claim, as it were.”

“I’m just doing my job…” Heero scowled. 

“Of course you are.” She blinked innocently at him. “That would be why you were tossing and turning all night, moaning his name.”

“You’re sleeping with Trowa tonight.” Heero glared at her, before turning and shutting the bathroom door.

*******

“Heero…?” Dorothy peered over his shoulder. “What the hell is that?”

“Gibberish…” He frowned, and cleared the screen. “Tro… did you have any trouble getting Duo’s file?”

“Nope.” The former thief looked up from his seat on the floor, where he was hunched over the coffee table rewiring more Preventer issue equipment. “Should I have?”

“I don’t know… but it looks like your talents will be needed again.” Heero scowled at the computer. “I was doing a general search of the records for Alex and Mueller Dietrich, and some of their friends, but I can’t get anything to download from the University database.”

“You… the best hacker the Preventers has ever gotten on the payroll… need a thief to manually extract files from a filing cabinet?” Trowa grinned. “I thought the day would never come.”

“Laugh it up. I think someone has already hacked the files. They’re scrambled to hell and back,” Heero growled. “Just don’t get caught. Khushrenada will kill us if he finds out. We don’t have a warrant for the Records office.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Trowa smirked, but bent back to his work. “We don’t have a warrant to hack the files either. I don’t see that stopping you.”

“You boys worry too much,” Dorothy muttered as she flopped down on the couch and put the headphones on again. “Treize is soft for our team, ‘cause we always get results.”

“You mean Treize _was_ soft for our team,” Trowa snorted. “Till Yuy here went and slept with a student. It’s a damn good thing he wasn’t jail-bait, or we’d be totally screwed.”

“Uh-huh… and you were dancing with Veronica Gale only because you thought she was a dealer?”

“Actually…well… no.” Trowa threw her a mock glare. “I was dancing with her because she’s got great legs for an Ice addict.” 

“I rest my case.” Dorothy glanced over at Heero. “Besides… Heero has other things to do now than hack the records.”

“I do?” Heero blinked. 

“Sounds like Duo and Nichol are up and around now.” Picking up a pillow off the sofa, she smacked Trowa over the head with it. “At a normal hour and without help from snarky, conniving bastards!” 

“Fine… next time I won’t leave you a note.” He shrugged. “And I even brought you coffee.”

“That is the only reason you’re still breathing.” She glanced at Heero. “Duo apparently slept through Mass… Nichol said he looked like he needed the sleep and turned off his alarm. So now would be a good time to go visit him… chat him up, and exchange jackets.”

“Do they sound like they intend to leave the room?” Heero asked, not sure why the thought of seeing the younger man again made his stomach clench.

“Nichol is going to get food from the dorm cafeteria. I think Duo is still feeling a little shaky.”

“Unless they make plans to leave the room today… I think it’s safe to just monitor them. Tomorrow, on campus, will be soon enough to stake my claim publicly, as you so elegantly put it.”

“Ah,” she grinned. “That gives us time to plan your strategy, then.”

“My what?”

“Your strategy for dating Duo, of course.” 

“I’m not dating him,” Heero frowned at her, and then turned back to face the computer monitor. “I’m protecting him.”

“Right,” she sighed. “Which if I recall our orders correctly— means you have to at least appear to be dating him. I used to date you, remember? You need a plan.”

“She’s got you there, Heero,” Trowa smirked behind the heavy fall of hair in his face. 

“I’m perfectly capable of handling my own relationships, thank you both very much.” 

*******

The hot water beating down on his head chased away the last of the fog that had hazed his thoughts since waking up the morning before. Duo ran shaky hands through his bangs and leaned wearily against the wet tiles of the shower. Despite sleeping most of the previous evening and all night, he still felt tired. No doubt the constant stream of nightmares hadn’t helped. He rubbed his eyes again, wondering why he couldn’t seem to forget those as easily as he had the events of the last two days.

“Duo…? You okay in there?” Nichol’s voice startled him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah…” Turning off the water, he reached for the towel hanging over the curtain rod. “I’ll be out in a minute.” He couldn’t help wondering what was up with his roommate. Two days ago, Nichol didn’t care if he was breathing or not, as long as Duo left him alone… and now he was worse than Sister Marguerite had ever dreamed of being. 

Drying off quickly and slipping back into his own clothes, Duo tried to ignore the cold feeling in his stomach. He knows what happened. He has to— or why would he be hovering so much? Does that-- does that mean Nichol was the one that gave me the drug? 

The cold feeling abruptly morphed into nausea. What the hell am I going to do? He felt the bite of panic, but shoved it down quickly. Dammit… Get a grip, that’s what. Stop being paranoid. Nichol is just concerned ‘cause you look like total shit. That’s it.

Despite the firmness of his mental voice, he could feel the tendrils of fear wrapping around his throat. Just chill, Duo, he told himself grimly. If Nichol is the one… then I’ll be damned if I give him the satisfaction of seeing me break down.

With a last sigh, he stepped out into the dorm room he shared with Nichol. The older student had placed a plate with a wrapped sandwich and a bag on chips on his desk, along with a bottle of water. The sight of food made him hungry, but he suddenly realized the thought of eating anything someone else had given him made his stomach churn. 

“Is something wrong?” Nichol glanced up at him curiously, and Duo realized he was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, staring blankly at the food on his desk. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting kind of weird, even for you.”

He shrugged and flopped down on his bed. “My stomach is still upset… I think I got some kind of bug or something.”

“You might just be hungry too.” Nichol shrugged disinterestedly. “But if you don’t want to eat that, leave it. I’ll eat it later.” He smirked at Duo, the oddly protective look that had been in his eyes earlier gone again. “’S not like I spit on it or anything…”

Duo frowned at him, but after a moment rolled over and grabbed the unopened bag of chips. Great. He already thinks I’m acting weird. What the hell he gonna think if Heero--when Heero shows up again?

Nichol shook his head as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. 

“I’m going out for a while.” 

Duo nodded, without looking up; until Nichol stopped in the doorway, speaking without turning around to look at him.

“Duo… stay the hell away from Alex and Otto.”

“Huh…?” Duo couldn’t quite hide the start, but when he looked up, Nichol was already gone.


	6. Chapter 6

Heero slouched into a slightly more comfortable position on the hard cement bench, watching through mirrored shades as a stream of students emerged from the building in front of him. There was no sign of Duo yet, but his last class of the day should have let out only a few minutes earlier. Of course, that was assuming he had actually gone to class and hadn’t simply retreated to the library or somewhere else. Considering that the young man hadn’t stirred out of his room even to eat on Sunday, it would not have surprised Heero if he’d ditched his classes for a few days. 

“Doro’s right… you do have it bad,” Tro grinned faintly as he dropped his backpack onto the bench in front of Heero and hopped gracefully onto the wall at Heero’s back.

“Did you bring me anything but grief?” Heero didn’t bother to glance at his partner, but kept scanning the students moving around them through the open courtyard.

“Package for you in the front pocket.” Trowa shrugged. “And…I got a nibble today.”

“Big fish?” Heero tugged the backpack closer and dug into the front pocket.

“Mid-size guppy… but could be fronting for a bottom feeder.”

“Bout damn time…” The packet, when he finally pulled it out, was wrapped in plain brown paper and packing tape. “Hm. Next time maybe you should try writing ‘drugs’ on the side in black marker.”

“You want to look like a dealer or not?” Trowa snorted. “Besides… you aren’t a student, so why the hell would I be giving you notes, hm?”

Heero couldn’t quite hide the amused smile as he pulled an identical packet from his jacket and slipped it into Trowa’s backpack. Trowa’s package vanished into his jacket again. “True.” 

The stream of students had slowed to a trickle, and he glanced at his watch with a scowl. Eleven-fifteen. Still no sign of Duo. He hadn’t really wanted to roam the campus searching for the younger man, but he supposed it wouldn’t hurt the roles they were playing if he had to hunt down his reluctant boyfriend. 

“Heero.” Alerted by the odd tone to Trowa’s voice, he tensed unconsciously. “Two o’clock.”

Turning his head slightly to follow the taller man’s gaze, he caught sight of his quarry emerging from the building to their right. Duo was walking slowly, his head down and his shoulders hunched inside a threadbare denim jacket. His long brown hair had been pulled back into a careless tail, and long strands that had worked their way free were trailing behind him in the cold November wind. 

Dressed in ragged jeans, a loose sweatshirt and scuffed combat boots, he looked like any of the other college students in the courtyard. The baggy clothing was not enough to make Heero forget the slender, toned body hidden beneath it, and he swallowed hard at the memory of Duo’s body curled against his after they’d made love. Shit. That was so not the kind of thing he needed to be remembering right now. 

Forcing his mind back to the present, he frowned a little at the oddly dazed look on Duo’s face. The younger man was less then twenty feet from them now, though he still hadn’t looked up to see the two sets of eyes watching him. 

“Is-- it just me or does he not look so good?” Trowa muttered softly. Heero couldn’t help agreeing with his friend; especially when another student brushed against Duo and the younger man flinched away, hunching further into his jacket. But his daze appeared to have been broken, and he suddenly looked far more aware of his surroundings than he had before.

Heero could tell the instant the younger man caught sight of them. Duo froze, his eyes widening slightly. From the tension in his body, it was clear he was only an instant away from bolting. He paled a little, then blushed suddenly.

“Duo.” Heero called softly, not wanting to spook the kid into running. He hadn’t expected Duo to be quite so off balance, though he supposed it was only natural. The young man’s universe had been turned inside out only a few days ago, and the unexpected presence of the man he’d woken up naked in bed with was probably not helping any.

Duo blinked, then glanced slowly from him to Trowa. After a long moment, he sighed and moved reluctantly closer. Heero realized he was holding his breath, and exhaled in relief as Duo halted several feet from the bench and eyed them nervously.

“Hey.” He managed a smile, though he was careful not to make any moves to startle the younger man; Duo still looked as though he might vanish at any moment. “How are you feeling?”

Duo didn’t answer immediately, though he twitched slightly when Heero spoke. Above him on the wall, Trowa was sitting still enough to be a statue. Deciding to take a risk, Heero shoved the backpack off the bench with one booted foot, and swung his legs around to leave the end of the bench clear. 

“Sit down?”

“I…” Duo hesitated, then shook his head slightly. “No thanks.”

“Duo…” Heero sighed. “Relax, ok? Sit down.” The words came out as more of a command than a request, and he opened his mouth to apologize hastily. But to his surprise, Duo actually managed a faint, shaky smile and dropped onto the bench. The young man ducked his head, but Heero thought he could see a trace of relief in fatigue dulled eyes. “You sure you’re alright?”

“No,” Duo mumbled. “I’m pretty sure I’m not.” With another sigh, he turned his head to look at Heero, then up at Trowa…but he didn’t say anything else. Heero leaned forward a little worriedly, reaching over without thinking to brush tangled hair out of the kid’s eyes. Duo started in surprise, before catching himself and freezing again. He reminded Heero suddenly of a feral animal, caught between fight or flight.

“What’s wrong?” Heero debated pulling his hand back, even as his fingers stroked through soft hair and brushed chilled flesh. Duo still hadn’t moved, though his eyes now held a flash of something he finally recognized as barely controlled panic. Heero sat back slowly, with a mental wince. Great. Way to convince the kid he’s safe, idiot.

“Nothing,” Duo mumbled, hunching deeper into his light jacket as the wind picked up. “Just kind of cold.” He was still paler than Heero liked, and his eyes looked almost bruised. 

“Duo….”

“I’m fine.” Duo looked away. “I—didn’t mean to interrupt your…uh…conversation.”

“You didn’t interrupt anything.” Heero settled back against the wall and studied the kid from behind the shelter of dark glasses. “I was hoping to see you again.”

Duo blushed again, this time not looking at either of them. An awkward silence descended on the group, as Heero quietly watched Duo fidget. It was finally broken as Trowa moved, leaping gracefully down from his place on the wall over their heads.

“Hey.” Trowa moved around to stand in front of the bench, holding out a hand to Duo as he studied the young man intently. “So you’re Duo. Trowa.” The younger man hesitated, then shook his hand.

“Hi.” Duo was still looking from Heero to Trowa uncertainly. The former thief grinned down at him, though Heero privately considered telling Trowa that his idea of a reassuring smile needed work. However, rather than shying away as Heero half expected, Duo seemed almost to relax. 

“It was nice meeting you, kid.” Trowa hooked a boot under the backpack, and managed to somehow kick it up as easily as if it was a hackey sack. “I’ll meet you later, Heero?”

“Late.” Heero threw Duo a measuring look, then glanced at Trowa. The taller man nodded, catching the hint. 

“Right,” Trowa smirked. “Have fun, then. Don’t do anything I’d do.”

“Don’t worry.” 

With a last grin at both of them, Trowa sauntered away across the courtyard.

Heero turned back to Duo, somehow not surprised to find the kid had withdrawn again. He was staring at the cobblestones beneath his battered boots with an absent frown, face turned away from Heero slightly. “It’s ok. Trowa is safe.”

“Oh.” Duo relaxed a little. “That’s—good to know.”

“You can trust him and Dorothy both….”

Duo sighed. “And what about you?”

“What?”

“Never mind,” Duo shrugged. “So… now what? Is this enough? We met, we talked… I can go study, right?”

“Not exactly, kiddo,” Heero smiled faintly. “Have you eaten today?”

“Huh?” Suspicious eyes met his for a moment. “Still trying to bribe me with food? I’m not hungry.”

“No,” Heero stood up abruptly, reaching out at the last minute to tug the kid up with him. “But you’re the color of chalk, you’re shaking, and it’s cold out. And I for one am hungry. What would you like?” Not giving Duo a chance to answer, he pulled him towards the parking lot where he’d left the bike.

“I--really don’t feel much like eating.” Duo dug in his heels, tugging back against the hand Heero had around his elbow. “Please let go of me….”

“Have you eaten today?” Heero glanced down at his reluctant companion. With a sigh, he let go of Duo’s elbow; taking his hand instead and lacing their fingers together. Duo threw him a startled look, tugging awkwardly against his grip. “Don’t.”

“No,” Duo muttered. “And I told you before--I don’t—want—“

“Duo.” Heero stopped, then pulled the younger man in front of him. Looking down into wide eyes, he had to force down the instinct to kiss the full lips. He settled for sinking the fingers of his free hand into the soft mass of hair and holding Duo’s head so that he was forced to meet Heero’s eyes. “I understand that you don’t want this. I really do. But if we’re going to convince anyone that I’ve taken an interest in you… I have to at least touch you occasionally.” He felt the tremors in the hand still caught in his grip, and winced internally. “Your alternative is for me to kiss you…. Which I know you don’t want either.”

Wary blue eyes widened even more, if such a thing was possible. Duo opened his mouth, but didn’t seem to be able to find any words, and a moment later he closed his eyes and just stood still in Heero’s hands. 

“I’m not trying to scare you, Duo,” Heero soothed softly. “I don’t want to make this harder on you that it already is. But you have to trust me. I won’t hurt you.” He sighed in frustration. 

“I….” Duo bit his lip, but some of the tension eased abruptly. “So if I let you hold my hand… that’s as far as you’ll take it?”

“Not… exactly. But I won’t kiss you… and I won’t expect you to get naked or fall back into my bed.” Shocked eyes met his for a moment, and he smiled a little sadly. “And I don’t expect you to be happy about it, though I would appreciate it if you try not to act terrified of me. While not exactly damaging to my reputation… it’s not quite the image people will be expecting after the display we put on at the party on Friday night.”

Duo’s expression darkened suddenly, as unease shifted suddenly to something much closer to anger. “The party….” His voice was almost a hiss, as he turned away. Heero let his fingers fall away from Duo’s hair, though to his surprise, the younger man was no longer trying to escape his grip on his hand. Instead, the kid was now pulling him towards the parking lot, rather than the other way around.

“Have you remembered something?” Heero couldn’t help asking, feeling a spark of hope. If Duo remembered what had happened, this charade would no longer be necessary. Treize could send a team of Preventers to arrest the perpetrators, along with a warrant for the DNA tests, without risking his own team’s covers. Otherwise, they were going to be just grabbing at straws in the dark. It wasn’t like they could require a DNA test from every student on campus, and they had no real evidence to prove to a judge that there was enough reason to arrest Mueller or any of his friends. They could have been setup to take Duo to the party, as easily as Heero had been setup to take him home.

“No,” Duo sighed, glancing over his shoulder at Heero. “But…well. What exactly did we do at that party, anyway?”

“Why?” 

“Because so far this morning, three strangers have stopped me on the way to my first class to compliment me on my dancing. Two of them….” Duo blushed furiously.

“Two of them…what?”

“Were girls.” Duo refused to meet his eyes.

“So?”

“So… they asked what you were like in bed.” The words came out in a rushed mumble, and Heero had to strain to catch them.

“Oh.” He couldn’t help smiling a little, especially since Duo wasn’t looking at him at the moment. “What did you tell them?”

“Well… since I…don’t really remember….” Duo glared at him half-heartedly, as they reached the motorcycle and Heero tugged him to a stop. “I told them I didn’t kiss and tell.” He sighed, looking down at his toes again. “They laughed.”

“They did?” Heero raised one brow curiously. 

“They—apparently—they said they knew about the kissing part already.” 

“Ah.” This time he couldn’t quite hide the grin. Duo looked up at him and scowled even more.

“You don’t look surprised.” 

“Well…no.”

“So. What—exactly—did we do at that party?”

Heero sighed. “We talked. We danced…”

“And?”

“And we might have made out on the couch for a while.”

“Might have?” 

“Okay…we did make out on the couch for a while.” 

“Oh.” Duo swayed a little, staring at the ground again. Heero sighed and forced himself not to just pull the younger man into his arms. “Well. I… guess…that explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“Why you...” Duo swallowed hard. “Why you thought I was… willing.”

“Yeah.” Heero let him absorb that for a moment, letting go of his hand when it was obvious that Duo wouldn’t run. He ran light fingers down the pale cheek. “Duo. I would not…have…ever….”

Duo glanced up at him nervously, but only shivered at the touch this time.

“I wouldn’t have ever forced you,” Heero finished softly. “I still won’t.”

“I—” Duo winced, and looked away again. “I—Can we talk about something else… for a while?”

Heero chuckled softly. “Alright.” Letting go of Duo, he turned to pull the helmets off the rack where they had been fastened. “How were your classes today?”

“I don’t—actually—remember.” Duo sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat.


	7. Chapter 7

Duo found himself staring at his boots again, as Heero freed the helmets from the net holding them to the motorcycle rack. He didn’t know why he found it so hard to meet Heero’s eyes, but whenever he did, his stomach began to do odd flips. Maybe it was the fact that every time he looked at the man, he remembered him leaning over him in the bathroom… completely naked and uncaring of that fact. 

Or maybe it was just the mirrored shades that the Preventer had yet to take off. It was a tossup over whether or not it was worse to not be able to see the cold blue eyes of his companion, or to have to see his own reflection looking pale and miserable staring back at him.

“Can you braid your hair?” 

He jumped, and realized that Heero was standing in front of him again. The sunglasses were gone now, and the man was already wearing his helmet. Ok… definitely worse to be able to see his eyes, Duo thought morosely as he ended up staring into them at close range. “And take off that jacket….”

“What?” He blinked, sure that he’d missed something in the conversation. “I— why?”

Heero held out a bundle of leather to him, with an amused smirk. “Here. I got this for you.”

“What’s that?” Duo looked up at him, then at the ball of black leather in his hand. 

“It’s a jacket.”

“I have a jacket.” Duo said with a frown. “Anyway, you already lent me one.”

“Which I notice you aren’t wearing,” Heero scowled at him a little. “You’re turning blue, Duo. Put it on.”

“You expected I wouldn’t wear it, so you brought me another one?” Duo asked, even as he reluctantly reached for the leather jacket. Unfolded, it turned out to be soft black suede, with silver trim along the edges of the heavily lined collar.

“The last one didn’t fit, so no, I didn’t expect you to be wearing it.” Heero shook his head, moving behind Duo to gather up his loose hair quickly. Duo started to protest, not liking anyone touching his hair, but then his eyes fell on Alex and Otto standing across the parking lot. “Put it on…Duo? What’s wrong?” The man’s voice was sharp, cutting through the odd feeling of… panic.

“I…” He shivered again. “N-nothing…” 

“Bullshit.” Heero suddenly tugged him around, so that he was facing away from them. Fierce eyes met his for a long moment, then looked past him intently. “Who are they?”

“Alex… and Otto,” Duo heard his own voice answering as if from a distance. 

“Duo?” He didn’t think to protest as hard fingers closed around his arms, holding him steady as he swayed. “What are you remembering, kiddo?” 

“Nothing…” Duo shook his head, realizing belatedly that to the two men across the parking lot it would look as if he and Heero were almost kissing, despite the helmet that Heero was wearing. Especially since Heero had ducked his head to whisper in his ear. “I… don’t remember a-anything.” In his head, however, he heard the odd tone in Nichol’s voice as he warned Duo to stay away from the two.

“But they scare you?”

“Just creep me out,” he muttered, not meeting the man’s eyes as he turned away. 

“I see,” Heero sighed, and let him go suddenly. “They’re gone now… put the jacket on, and let’s go.”

“Ok.” Numb fingers fumbled with the snaps on the denim hand-me-down he was wearing. Occupied in trying to get his fingers to work, he didn’t realize at first that Heero had braided his hair until the rope was being tucked down the back of his shirt and the helmet was sliding down over his head. “How did you…?”

“I’ve had a lot of practice with Dorothy,” Heero sounded almost amused. “Ready?”

“I… think so.” He pulled the suede jacket on, a little surprised at how well it fit. It was much more heavily lined than the denim had been, with a high collar that protected his neck and fit snugly under the faceguard of the helmet. Tugging up the zipper on the much warmer jacket, he looked up at Heero.

“Good.” Heero got on the bike, then waited patiently for him to mount awkwardly. It was only when Duo was settled behind him, and the bike was moving, that it occurred to him that he had no idea where Heero was taking him. Again.

***

Dorothy frowned as the headphones she was wearing crackled, reaching down to press record. Trowa had rewired a portable mp3 player into a receiver for the bug he’d placed in Nichol’s room, but so far in the half-hour she’d spent in the secluded back corner of the library pretending to do homework, there had been no sound from the room. The bug was motion sensitive though, and designed to turn on when someone entered the room. She heard the creak of bedsprings, followed by a low chuckle. Must have been Nichol, she mused, since the noises were obviously coming from the bed where she’d stashed the bug. 

Devoting part of her attention to the headphones, she made a mental note not to let the relationship get as far as sex… or if it did, not to have sex actually in the room. She scowled a little at the thought of Heero and Trowa critiquing her technique in bed. Not, of course, that either of them would be surprised by anything they heard. Trowa had not only listened to her and Heero on the case where they’d posed as a honeymooning couple, but he had threatened to send copies of that recording to Une and Noin until Heero stepped in and confiscated them all. She simply had no intention of giving him any more ammunition until she found something of sufficient leverage to use against him.

She was drawn out of her thoughts again, at the sound of a door slamming through the headphones.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Nichol’s voice growled in her ears.

“You don’t sound very happy to see me.” The second voice was deep and smooth… and completely unfamiliar.

“Should I?” She heard something heavy hit the floor. “Now tell me what you’re doing here and then go away, before my roommate gets back from class.”

“I’ve missed you.” There was silence for a while, as Nichol didn’t respond verbally to the man’s comment. Not for the first time, Dorothy wished they’d had a chance to sneak a camera into the room as well. Maybe if she ever managed to convince Nichol to actually go out on a date, Heero could keep Duo occupied and Trowa could sneak one in. 

She frowned, wondering if the stranger was the reason Nichol hadn’t seemed to be very… receptive to her advances. Damn. Maybe Trowa should have tried for contact instead. 

“We shouldn’t be so estranged, Nicky. I want you to come home.”

“Home?” Nichol asked, sounding stunned. “After everything that happened… you actually think I would…? No.”

“What happened… is in the past.” The voice hardened, and while still outwardly pleasant, there was now an odd tone to it that frightened Dorothy. “I want you to come home.”

“I can’t,” Nichol’s voice was strained. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” The man sounded genuinely puzzled. “I wouldn’t hurt you, Nicky. Don’t you know that? But Sylvia’s dead… things can go back to normal now.”

“Normal?” Nichol’s voice was almost to low for her to hear. “This is normal. It’s as normal is it’s ever fucking going to get. Don’t you understand that?”

“I just want you to come home. That’s all.”

She heard Nichol sigh, and when he spoke again, his voice was no longer angry. “I just need time, okay? It’s still… it still hurts.”

“She’s been dead for months.” 

“I need a little more time. Maybe at Christmas, okay?”

“Mueller tells me you have a new girlfriend.” The words dropped into the sudden silence, and Dorothy felt cold chills go down her back as she realized they were talking about her. “Another blonde, just like Sylvia.”

“Mueller… is an asshole,” Nichol’s voice turned cold. “And I already got your message, loud and clear. From now on, leave my friends out of this.”

“Alright.” She heard the sound of movement. “I’ll give you until Christmas. You’re the only family I have left, Nichol. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“I know,” Nichol laughed, though the sound was closer to pain than humor. “So I suggest you keep Mueller and the rest of your dogs on a fucking leash. Okay? They went way too far this time.”

“Of course.” The voice was smooth again, and the oddly threatening note was gone now. “It won’t happen again.”

“It had better not. I’ll see you at Christmas. Now go.”

She heard the sound of the door closing, then silence for several long moments. 

“Fuck!” She flinched at the harsh sound of glass shattering through the headphones. It sounded as if Nichol was in the process of throwing every breakable object in the room against the far wall, along with a few less breakable objects. 

“I’m the only family you’ve got left…”

Thud.

“Whose fault is that?”

Crash. 

“Oh God, Syl…” This time, the thud was that of a body, hitting the floor, followed by what could have been a sob. Nichol had never shown much emotion, in the entire month she’d known him. Always calm, pleasant, yet remote, as if what was happening around him and even her presence was somehow distant. She couldn’t quite reconcile that mental image with the violent sounds coming through the bug. It also made it all the more obvious that it had not been only her imagination that had filled in the silences in the previous conversation with veiled threats.

A hand dropped onto her shoulder, and she jumped; only managing not to scream out loud with the help of the hand Trowa clamped suddenly across her lips. 

“Doro?” She blinked up at him, as he tugged the chair around enough to see her face. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, not sure she could get her voice to work, and settled for ripping the headphones off and thrusting them into his hands. Pushing away from him a little, she sat back in the chair and ran her hands through her hair. Trowa perched on the desk of the cubical she’d been working in, watching her closely as he put the headphones on. 

He listened to the sounds for a long moment, then looked at her questioningly. “What the hell…? Nichol?”

She nodded.

“What happened?” Worried green eyes studied her for a moment. “Never mind. Duo’s safe with Heero for the moment…” He pulled the mp3 player out of her pocket, quickly rewinding to the start of the last recording and listening carefully. “Shit. Why am I starting to get a bad feeling whenever Mueller’s name comes up?”

“You think this has something…to do with what happened to Duo?”

“Could be. Nichol did seem to have a pretty good idea that something had happened.”

“But it was Alex and Otto that he warned Duo to stay away from, not Mueller.”

“But it was Mueller that Duo arrived at the party with. And Otto.” Trowa looked at her searchingly. “I think we need to do some more digging on Nichol… and his family. Whatever is going on… he’s mixed up in it.”

“Y-yeah,” she sighed. “It’s weird… that man…his voice just… something in his voice was… wrong, Trowa.”

“I know.” Trowa leaned forward, catching her face in both of his hands. “Dorothy…”

“Yeah?”

“Watch your back around him.”

“I am.”

“I’m serious. If Duo’s rape…was connected to Nichol in some way, was this warning or message or whatever… then you could be in just as much danger.”

“I had already thought of that.” She shivered. “But don’t worry. I’ll be careful.”


	8. Chapter 8

Heero put a hand on Duo’s back, guiding him into the warm interior of Apollo’s Coffee House. Duo looked around a little nervously, relaxing only slightly when it became clear that the restaurant was sparsely populated. The coffeehouse occupied the front half of a renovated warehouse, with large sections of empty space separating the clusters of tables and couches. A small stage, which was occupied a few evenings a week by local bands aspiring for a chance at fame and fortune, took up a section of the outer wall of the shop, towards the back of the shop.

“Coffee…?” Heero glanced down at the hesitant question. “I thought you wanted me to eat?”

“Apollo’s also serves some of the best food in town.” Heero grinned down at his companion. “You’ve really never been here before? I thought all college students lived in coffeehouses such as this.”

“Yeah, well… most college kids can afford places like this.” Duo sighed. “I… don’t really leave campus much.”

“That’s too bad. Come on…” Heero slipped a casual arm around his waist, pulling him towards the front counter. He could feel Duo tense, balking slightly at the guidance before giving in; but all his attention was suddenly on the feel of his arm around the slender waist. 

He tried not to think about how good the younger man had felt in his arms after they’d had sex, that body pressed trembling against his arm as Duo panted for breath. Tried not to remember the feel of Duo’s long hair trapped against his chest and rippling over his shoulder as he nuzzled the slim, long throat.

He was brought back to himself as his cell phone rang, and he realized only then that his arm had tightened around the young man and dragged him very firmly against his chest and hips. Shit, he thought grimly, this is not good. 

Relaxing his hold slightly, though not letting go enough that the kid could bolt, he pulled his no longer resisting but very tense companion to the counter. Cathy met him with a single raised brow, looking from him to Duo curiously.

“What do you want to eat?” He asked softly, leaning down to speak into the younger man’s ear as he pulled the cell phone out of his jacket pocket. Duo shivered, squirming a little. 

“I want you to let go… please.” The words were so soft Heero could barely hear them. He doubted it made a difference, since Cathy was just as skilled at reading lips as Trowa was.

“That’s not lunch. Order whatever you want. My treat.” With a sigh, Heero relented and released his companion; turning away slightly to answer the phone.

Duo scowled back at him for a moment, the flash of anger in his eyes reassuring Heero that the events of the previous weekend had not completely crushed the younger man’s spirit. Cathy looked at the two of them suspiciously, then handed Duo a menu and helpfully pointed out the three most expensive selections. Heero threw her a glare over the top of Duo’s head as he connected the call.

“Lowe.”

“Heero.” He could hear the tension in Trowa’s voice, even in just the single word. “Duo is with you still… right?”

“Yes. What’s up?” In spite of himself, Heero nearly reached for the younger man who was studying the menu.

“Nichol had a visitor earlier. He-- seems a bit disturbed at the moment. I suggest keeping Duo out until he’s had a chance to calm down. And I doubt the kid really needs to deal with what sounds to have been a lot of broken glass, some of which may have belonged to him. Not on top of how he looked earlier.”

“Was it a fight?”

“No… the breakage started after Nichol’s visitor left. As I said, he sounded very disturbed.”

“Who was it?”

“No idea yet-- but I intend to find out.” Trowa’s voice was grim. “Nothing specific was said… so I have nothing I can take to Treize. But I think Dorothy might be in danger, as well as Duo.” The former thief was silent for a moment. “Call it a strong hunch, but I got a very bad vibe off of Nichol’s guest. So did Doro. We both came to the conclusion that Nichol may be a lot more -- involved-- than we thought.”

“Is she with you now? Or did she go to see Nichol again?”

“She’s here,” Trowa hesitated again. “I-- didn’t want her there. Not right now.”

“Understood,” Heero frowned, absently glancing back at Duo as the young man talked softly with Cathy. “Where are you guys?”

“Just leaving Romefeller Library. But if you and Duo are going to stay out for a bit… I want to use the computer at the apartment… look up a few things. Maybe put out a few feelers. But I don’t think Duo should know that anything is going on… not yet. Not while he’s still got to sleep in that room at night.”

“Yeah…well… I don’t think I’m going to be able to prevent that.” Heero sighed. “Understood. I’ll call you when we leave Apollo’s then.”

“Right,” Trowa muttered. “Watch his back, Heero.”

The call terminated abruptly, leaving him listening to the soft dial tone for a moment before he folded the phone again. 

Yeah, he told himself silently, I can watch his back. That is not a hardship at all. It’s the only watching and not touching that is going to be the hard part.

* * *

Mueller concentrated on the images on his computer monitor, judging the lighting and camera angles while paying only scant attention to the action happening in the video. Despite Alex’s enthusiasm for this particular bit of fun, he was more than a little bored watching his brother and Otto with another man; and he’d already watched this scene repeatedly in the process of editing. 

Though the look on Nichol’s face if he bothered to show the video to him would be almost worth it, he mused silently. Probably as good as if they did end up sending it to that church across town; though in that case, they most likely wouldn’t send the version that showed Alex and Otto. The fact that Maxwell had willingly slept with one man should be sufficient leverage, and there was no need to risk the exposure just for a cheap thrill.

The action on the screen wound down, and he noted the elapsed runtime. Pausing the video long enough to slip a blank disk into the burner, he began burning another copy of the disk. Alex always liked to keep his own private mementos of such encounters. Mueller had already edited another two disks, each showing a slightly different version of the encounter. Mueller had no intention of letting his brother near the master disk.

He was just pulling the freshly burned copy of the disk out of the burner when the door opened.

“…Fucking prig…” Alex grumbled as he tossed himself on his brother’s bed. “He’s such a fucking cocktease.”

Mueller raised one eyebrow at Alex’s rant, then glanced up at Otto questioningly.

“We saw Maxwell on the way over here.”

“Oh? And how is he feeling?” Mueller frowned a little, not liking Alex’s obsession with Nichol’s longhaired roommate. 

“Fine, apparently.” Otto rolled his eyes. “Alex is just pissed that Duo’s getting all chummy with that Lowe guy, when he wouldn’t even give Alex the time of day before.”

“I see.” Mueller turned to his younger brother with a scowl. “Forget about him. You had your chance at his ass, and we got what we wanted. He’s off limits now, understand?” 

Alex rolled over, muttering something under his breath. 

“Alex… don’t touch him. Nichol agreed to go home again. So long as he does, the word is that you keep your hands off both his roommate and the new girlfriend.”

“You can’t tell me he really gives a fuck about Nichol’s roommate.”

“Doesn’t matter if he gives a fuck about the kid or not,” Mueller glared at his brother. “I have no intention of ending up like Syl, just because you couldn’t keep it in your pants. The kid served his purpose, and you got to have a little fun. Let it go. Or so help me, I’ll kill you myself.”

“Whatever,” Alex muttered sulkily. “You always take _his_ fucking side.”

“That’s because I’m not stupid and I do have a functioning sense of self preservation.”

“Yeah. Whatever….”

“Besides,” Mueller relented, offering his brother a faint measure of hope. “It probably won’t be forever.”

“No?”

“No. Nichol’s going home for Christmas, because he has no choice. But I sincerely doubt he’ll be coming back here afterwards.”

“So?” 

“So if Nichol doesn’t survive to come back to school after Christmas break… the only thing standing in your way is Lowe.” Mueller picked up a videodisk off his desk, from the stack he had just finished burning. “And this just might persuade him that expanding his current market to include Nightstream as well as Ice… is worth giving up his new little whore.”

“Yeah?” Alex perked up a little, eyeing the videos. “They turned out good?”

“Very good. Though I edited you two out of the final version, just to be safe. These should work very nicely to keep Maxwell in line when the time comes, assuming he dares to raise a fuss after Lowe gets through with him. I seriously doubt he’ll want that tight-ass priest seeing him earning his degree on his hands and knees. And the assistant dean is as good as ours now.” Mueller tossed another of the disks to Otto. “Speaking of which… why don’t you deliver this to Mr. Parsons personally. Remind him of the quality of our product, and then mention that if he wants the means to continue keeping his bed filled with freshmen without them crying to their parents… the price is now going up.”

“Right.” Otto caught the disk and slipped it into his jacket with a smirk. “I’m so glad I met up with you guys. This is a lot more satisfying than just dealing Ice to losers. Though if you do get Lowe to hand over Maxwell… I want whatever’s left over when Alex is done. Your rule about no visible bruises was a serious cramp to my style….” A moment later the door closed behind him, leaving Alex and Mueller alone in the room. 

“You really think things will blow up at Christmas?” Alex mused, reaching over to pick up one of the disks and spin it on one finger. “I don’t know if even Nichol is stupid enough to cross that crazy sonovabitch….”

“He was in love with Syl. In a twisted sort of way… they both were.” Mueller’s gaze softened for a moment, remembering the protective way Nichol had always hovered over the youngest member of their group. “Love makes you do stupid things.”

“Yeah,” Alex sighed, and dropped the disk back onto the desk. “Especially in that family. I don’t know which of them is actually crazier by now, without Syl there to calm things down.”

“Yeah,” Mueller straightened and reached for another disk. “Me either. And everyone has a limit. From the way he’s been flaking out lately-- I’d say Nichol’s hit his.”

“He took losing Syl hard. Hell… sometimes I still have trouble remembering that she’s dead. I keep looking around for her, the way she always used to tag along behind us.”

“I do too,” Mueller sighed. “But that doesn’t mean I want to join her. Whatever happens, we stay out of the way if there’s a blowup. And take care of the mess afterwards if the wrong one of them is left standing.”

“You promise I get Maxwell after Christmas…?”

“Nichol’s on the edge of blowing sky high right now. He won’t be able to keep his cool, and he doesn’t have a prayer of surviving that kind of encounter, any more than the rest of his family did. Then we’ll worry about persuading Lowe to give up the kid, if he hasn’t gotten bored before then. You and Otto can wear out his ass in relative peace and consider it a late Christmas present.”

“Cool.” Alex grinned at his brother, his good mood restored. “So is it cheating if we nudge Nichol a little closer to the edge?”

“As long as you don’t actually do anything to his roommate or the girlfriend…” Mueller paused to consider it, then smiled as well. “I don’t have a problem with it. Just don’t get caught. Cause I won’t step in front of you for that bullet.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

* * *

Heero watched Duo take another bite of his chicken sandwich, enjoying the way the sunlight through the window turned his hair to gold.

“What?” Duo turned his head to meet his eyes defensively. “Why do you keep staring at me?”

“Do I need a reason?” Heero shrugged, and reached out to touch one of the long strands that had escaped from his loose braid. “Even drug dealers can appreciate something beautiful.”

They were sitting, at his insistence, on one of the deep couches near the stage; facing the door and close enough to the window that he could watch the people moving through the area. Duo had originally attempted to sit in the smaller armchair to one side of the couch, but Heero had pulled him firmly onto the couch with him, wrapping an arm around the slender waist to hold him there as he slouched down into the deep cushions. 

They had still been wrestling over the seating, when Cathy brought the tray over with their food. She eyed them with amusement, not missing the sudden red flush on Duo’s face as she set the tray down on the low table, then turned away with a shake of her head. Duo had abandoned the fight at the first smell of his food; his stomach was growling loudly, telling Heero how long ago his last meal had been.

“I’m not beautiful…” Duo muttered, choking a little on his sandwich. Heero frowned thoughtfully as he reached around him to steal a French fry off the plate, dunking it quickly in the chipotle mayonnaise before eating it. 

“Obviously, you haven’t looked in a mirror lately.” 

“I have too… and stop that. First you want me to eat, then you steal all of my food.”

“One French fry is not all of your food,” Heero grumbled, but reached for his own plate instead. “And you’re welcome to try this as well.” He let Duo steer the conversation away from his looks, though he filed it away to consider later.

Duo hesitated, eyeing his own lunch skeptically. “What exactly is that, anyway?”

“Chicken strips.”

“I guessed that part… I was referring to the mint green stuff in the bowl.”

“Wasabi ranch sauce.”

“Wasabi?” Duo drew away a little, as if expecting the contents of the bowl to launch itself at him. “Isn’t that supposed to be really…hot?”

“It can be… if you eat too much of it. Mixed with ranch… it won’t hurt you, no matter how much you eat.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“I thought you didn’t trust my word.” Heero scooped up more of the sauce on a chicken strip, waiting until Duo opened his mouth to speak, and then brushed the green sauce over parted lips. Duo flinched back, then tentatively licked at the stuff. Heero forced his body not to react at the sight, even as he ate the rest of the chicken piece and sauce.

“You bastard.”

“I’ll apologize if you really dislike it.”

“I-- well-- it’s not that bad,” Duo admitted reluctantly. “Kind of sweet.”

“See?” Heero scooped up more of the sauce, this time on the tip of one finger. He held it to Duo’s lips, a little surprised when Duo tentatively licked it off. He could feel the warm rush of pleasure wash over his entire body, and had to force himself to remember his promise not to kiss Duo. “You shouldn’t be afraid of trying new things.”

“Like sleeping with guys?” Duo frowned suddenly, the mood broken as he tensed and turned away. Heero winced at the tension suddenly coursing through his companion. 

“That wasn’t what I meant…”

“Sure. And you are only trying to seduce me for the sake of the mission, right?”

“Duo….”

“Don’t. I’m not stupid, no matter what you might think of me.”

“I never thought you were stupid, Duo.” Heero sighed, cupping one hand around Duo’s cheek and forcing troubled eyes back to meet his. “And I’m not trying to seduce you.”

Duo stared at him in blatant disbelief. “Right.”

“Duo…”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Duo muttered, turning away and reaching for his own food again. “Just… don’t.”

Biting back his frustration with the entire situation, Heero let him turn away as he concentrated on his own suddenly tasteless lunch.


	9. Chapter 9

“So…what do you _like_ to eat?” Heero asked, eyeing the abandoned sandwich on Duo’s plate. The younger man had managed only half of it before he’d given up on eating. 

“Huh?” Duo glanced up from his intent study of the tabletop with a startled flinch.

“So far, hamburgers and chicken sandwiches aren’t satisfying enough to get you to eat… so what do you like?”

Duo flushed, his eyes turning guiltily to the food. “It was fine. I just don’t have much of an appetite right now.”

“Are you still feeling sick from the drug?” Heero frowned at his companion, a little worried at the thought. 

“No…” Duo shrugged halfheartedly. “I… don’t think so. I just-- I’m not hungry. Besides, what do you care?”

“I don’t want to you pass out for lack of food,” Heero sighed at the hostile tone. 

“Thanks for your concern,” Duo snapped. “But I’ve survived on a lot less than this. I’m fine.”

“Humor me…” Heero turned on the couch to face his companion, leaning against the padded arm and stretching one leg behind Duo. The young man tensed, eyeing him suspiciously, but Heero very carefully made no moves to touch him again. “It’s a simple question, Duo.”

“Steak,” Duo finally growled. “And lobster.”

“That wasn’t so hard, then?” Heero smirked at him, almost clenching his fists to keep his hands to himself at the adorably pissed look on Duo’s face at his words. He would be willing to bet that Duo had never actually tasted lobster before. They were far enough from the coast that fresh seafood was expensive, and rather far out of an orphanage’s budget. 

“What’s yours?” Duo countered with a scowl. “Not that I care, but fair is fair….”

“Steak is good,” Heero shrugged. “So is Salmon.”

“You do cook it first, right?”

Heero raised one eyebrow at him curiously. “Why?”

“Why would you cook it…? Ugh.” Duo blinked. “I don’t think raw fish sounds appetizing.”

“So that automatically means I would prefer it that way?” Heero teased softly. 

“No-- I just-- I thought you were Japanese.” Duo flushed.

“Half Japanese, yes. And I do eat raw fish occasionally,” Heero relented. “But I also like it grilled.”

“Oh,” Duo looked back down at his plate. “I guess that was kindof a…stupid assumption, huh?”

“Have you ever tasted Sushi?” He asked softly.

“No…” Duo tensed. “And I don’t really want to.” He didn’t look at Heero as he spoke, though his shoulders hunched a little unconsciously.

“Ah.” Heero leaned back.

“That’s it…? Ah?”

“Do you think I would force you to eat something?” Heero asked curiously. 

“I…” Duo hesitated, before finally meeting his eyes reluctantly. “You haven’t exactly---given me a lot of choices up until now.”

“I’m sorry,” Heero sighed. He didn’t know what else he could say, since it was true. He’d given Duo very little choice about anything, including each time he touched him. But he couldn’t quite stop himself from wanting to take the younger man in his arms, and also take him back to his bed.

Is he right? He wondered suddenly. Am I trying to seduce him again? The thought was a sobering one, if only because he knew deep inside that it was at least partially true. He doesn’t like guys, no matter what his body was saying three days ago. And I have no right to push that… or I’m no better than the bastards that gave him that drug. “I was not trying to force you to eat, Duo. I’m just…worried.”

Duo blinked, then looked at him uncertainly. “Why?”

“Because you looked--less than well when we first saw you on campus.” 

“Yeah well…” Duo broke off what he was going to say and just shook his head. “I’m coping, okay? So you don’t have to hover over me every minute. If I promise to eat from now on, will you let me go back to the dorms?”

“I wish I could, Duo,” Heero sighed, seeing the blue eyes harden beneath the curtain of brown bangs. 

“And why can’t you?” Duo asked angrily. “Oh wait, let me guess. Your partner is off seducing my roommate or something? ‘Cause it can’t be due to the large number of my classmates you think are going to see us here. The place is nearly empty.”

Heero scowled at the young man. “Something like that.”

“Great,” Duo shook his head sarcastically. “That makes me feel so much better about this, having you going from bodyguard to babysitter.” An odd look crossed his face.

“What?” Heero watched him closely. 

“I…”

“Yes?”

“Was that why you-- why you picked me up?”

“What?” Heero blinked, caught off guard by the question. “You know why I picked you up.”

“Not today. At the party.” Duo hunched his shoulders defensively, very carefully not meeting Heero’s eyes. “Did you pick me up at the party… and take me….” The words trailed off into silence.

“Did I take you to bed because you were in Dorothy’s way?” Heero finally asked softly, when it was obvious Duo wasn’t going to finish his question. A flinch was his only answer. “No.”

Duo glanced over one shoulder at him, looking dubious.

“I started talking to you because of that, yes.” Heero sighed again, hoping he wasn’t going to ruin everything with his answer. “I took you to bed because I wanted to, and because at the time, it seemed like you wanted to as well.”

“And because I was coming on to you…?” Duo shook his head, and drew in on himself a little more. “You thought I was an easy lay?”

Heero frowned, leaning forward slightly to catch hold of the younger man’s chin and force troubled eyes back to meet his. “I thought you were cute, and smart, and funny… and an incredible dancer.”

“And stoned…”

“No.” Heero shook his head. “I didn’t think you were stoned, or I wouldn’t have slept with you. And though I knew you’d been drinking, I didn’t think you were drunk either.”

Duo stared at him for a long moment, then flushed suddenly. “You-- you really thought I was cute?”

“I think you’re damn gorgeous.”

Duo blinked, his eyes widening a little. “Oh.”

The silence stretched out between them, as Duo shifted nervously against Heero’s fingers. Finally having mercy on his rather flustered companion, Heero smiled a little and let go. “But I’m still not trying to seduce you again.” Leaning back against the arm of the couch, he eyed Duo with a grin. “Besides, I’ve already figured out that the way to your heart is not through your stomach. So what kind of movies do you like?”

“Huh…?” 

 

* * *

 

“This is getting us nowhere,” Dorothy sighed, shuffling the loose papers back into their folder and sitting back wearily. Trowa frowned at her from his seat in front of Heero’s computer, but he looked as frustrated as she felt. “Did you have any luck?”

“No.” He shook his head. “There are no records at Romefeller for a student by the name of Sylvia that either died or disappeared within the last year. Though I’m not sure how much I trust the online records at this place. The files are either scrambled beyond repair, or so clean they have to be false. And without a last name to go on, I’m drawing a blank with the search in the Preventer’s system. There are over six hundred files to go through, and that’s only on a four state radius from here.”

“Well… since our best hacker is unfortunately occupied, looks like we’ll have to just do this the hard way…” Dorothy muttered.

“I don’t think that breaking into the records buildings three nights in a row is a good idea.” Trowa said slowly. “Especially with no evidence that this Sylvia was even a student here.”

“Yeah, well… I’ve gone over every file you managed to take on Alex, Mueller, Otto and Nichol anyway.” She hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “Though I agree with you about the too clean to be believable bit.”

“So what are you suggesting?”

“We go to the source.” Dorothy rubbed her eyes wearily. “I think we’re looking in the wrong place.”

“Okay,” Trowa frowned thoughtfully. “So where should we be looking?”

“Northfork.” She tapped the files on the coffee table in front of her. “It’s about three hours northwest of here, in the mountains.”

“What exactly do you expect to find there?” Leaving the computer to continue its search of the Preventer database on its own, he moved over to join her on the couch.

“Not sure yet,” Dorothy muttered. “Except that Nichol, Mueller and Alex all three list it as home on their admission records.”

“Hm.” As she watched, he leaned back against the arm of the couch. “I hadn’t thought of them growing up together… though that would be logical considering that Nichol’s mysterious relative is obviously well aquainted with at least Mueller.”

“That’s kind of what I was thinking.” She shrugged. “Not to mention that it would explain why Nichol hangs out with them, when he really doesn’t seem to like them all that much. Childhood friends, perhaps, but still a familiar presence so far from home.”

“It’s going to have to wait until Wednesday, though,” Trowa frowned. “I’m committed to a meet with Veronica Gale’s supplier tomorrow.”

“We’ll need to make an early start then. Thursday is Thanksgiving… a lot of places might be shutting down early on Wednesday.”

“We could always just open them back up,” Trowa grinned at her expression. “Just kidding. How about we drive up there tomorrow night, poke around a little and hit the library and County Records building first thing Wednesday.”

“You think Heero will need us?”

“I doubt he’ll notice we’re gone. He’s got something much more distracting to pay attention to.” 

“I just feel like this is a wild goose chase,” Dorothy sighed. “I mean… we’re grasping at straws here. Whatever is going on in Nichol’s family life may have absolutely nothing to do with Duo… or with running a drug ring.”

“And it may have everything to do with both.” Trowa shrugged. “Besides, we’re at the point where all we can do is wait for our suspects to come to us… so we might as well keep ourselves busy in the meantime.”

“True.”


	10. Chapter 10

The shrill tone of the alarm clock finally drove Dorothy out of odd dreams and she rolled over with a groan. It took two tries to smack the off button, the second of those sending the clock radio tumbling to the floor. Burrowing back under the covers, she was all set to fall back asleep when she heard the soft chuckling.

“Fuck you, Tro…” She muttered as she thrust one hand out from under the warm covers to flip him off.

“I didn’t think I was your type,” he said calmly, as she finally shoved the covers down enough to locate him. He was sitting in one of the two chairs, with his long legs propped onto the edge of the bed and Heero’s laptop balanced precariously in his lap. The cord from the alarm clock was draped over his ankles, and she threw him a pointed glare before reeling in the cord and dropping the clock back on the endtable.

“Yeah, yeah…but Heero’s taken now,” she growled at him. “Would it have killed you to turn that damn thing off?”

“Only if I got between you and its death,” he shrugged. “Besides… it was time you woke up anyway. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“I see you got an early start already.” She sat up and rubbed her eyes wearily. “Found anything?”

“I’ve narrowed down the six hundred Sylvia’s who appeared in the police reports to about thirty,” Trowa sighed, his smile fading as he looked back at the laptop. “Three of whom are in the same county as Northfork.”

“Sounds like a place to start.” 

“Yeah.”

“Let me grab a quick shower.” Dorothy shoved back the covers. “We can hit the police station first, and then go from there.”

“Actually, I was thinking… maybe you should start with the news archives at the library,” Trowa frowned slightly. “And I should take the police station.” 

“You?” She stopped and stared at him for a moment. “You hate police stations… normally Heero and I have to drag you into headquarters, and you’re an agent.”

He shrugged again. 

“Don’t give me that… talk to me. Why?”

“You might attract attention.”

“I’ll attract less attention in the library? I’m not going to be juggling flaming batons at the police station.” Her eyes narrowed as she scowled at him. “I’ve been an agent a hell of a lot longer than you have. Don’t think you have to protect me just ‘cause I’m a female.”

“I’d rather thought to protect you because you are currently dating one of the prime suspects in this mess,” Trowa snapped as he scowled back at her. “On the off chance that whoever was threatening Nichol has gotten a description of you from Mueller, it might be best if you aren’t seen talking with the police in their hometown.”

“Oh,” she sighed again, and rubbed her forehead with a wince. “Yeah. Guess it does kind of make sense for me not to blow my cover just yet.”

“Yeah,” he quirked a grin ruefully. “I am not, however, so foolish as to insist on you hiding out here in the hotel. But I would hope that the local library is hardly the haunt of your typical drug dealers, so it should be safe enough.”

“So you’re sending me there? I thought I was supposed to _be_ one of these typical drug dealers.”

“Even the best plans have flaws.”

“Fine.” She turned back towards the bathroom. “But you’d better not gloat about being right.”

“Never,” he assured her solemnly, though she saw the grin he was trying to hide.

“Bastard.” 

* * *

Less than two hours later, she was settled at the single computer carrel crammed into a corner of the small library. Despite the fact that the small building was empty aside from the woman manning the information desk and a girl around Duo’s age shelving books, Dorothy couldn’t help glancing around nervously. Now that Trowa had brought up the dangers of hunting down an unknown person on his own ground, she couldn’t escape the nagging feeling that she was being watched; and she was suddenly keenly missing Trowa’s presence at her back.

You’re being paranoid, she told herself silently as she turned to the computer and keyed in the first search. Trowa had given her a list of the names he had gleaned from the net that morning, and she had decided to start with those. The first search pulled up, as she had expected, the respective obituaries. She nearly eliminated the first of them immediately merely because she doubted that the Sylvia that Nichol had seemed so upset about had been a sixty-year-old piano teacher. But then the thoroughness that Heero had ingrained in both her and Trowa took over, and she quickly hit the key to print out it out before pulling up the second. It was the third one that made her pause, staring at the screen in surprise.

Northfork, NY- Sylvia Noventa, 20, died early Friday morning in an accident along County Line road. A memorial service will be held at 2 p.m. Monday, April 27 at Cross Chapel in Northfork, 1321 SW Covington Rd, followed by a graveside service at Ashland Acres Cemetery. Sylvia was a bright spark in this community, and will be missed. Her mother, Agnes Noventa-Dietrich, Grandfather Lt. Colonel Marshall Noventa, stepfather Arnold Dietrich and stepbrothers Mueller Dietrich and Alexander Dietrich, survive her. 

“My…God.” Dorothy quickly printed out the obituary before pulling up the local paper for April 25th. It took a bit more digging to find an article about the accident itself. 

Northfork, NY- An accident along County Line road early Friday morning claimed the life of Northfork resident Sylvia Noventa, and left her companion, Nichol Anders, injured. The cause of the accident is under investigation, but it is believed to have occurred just after the heavy rainstorms Thursday night, which caused hazardous conditions along several of the roads in the mountains west of the city. The driver, Sylvia Noventa (20) was declared dead on the scene after her car skidded over the edge of the roadside and down the cliff along County Line road. Nichol Anders (23) was thrown from the car before impact and has been listed in stable condition at Northfork General. Police are refusing to speculate on whether there is any significance to Anders’ presence in the car at the time of the accident, or even whether it was actually an accident. It is common knowledge that Nichol Anders has miraculously survived several tragic incidents, which claimed the lives of many of his family members. He lived with the Dietrich family for several years after the tragic death of his parents and older sister in a house fire ten years ago. The location of Randall Anders is currently unknown.

Dorothy blinked, rereading the article several times as she tried to make sense of it. There was nothing in the circumstances of the accident that she could tell that would have raised a suspicion of foul play…yet the implication was there. What made it truly odd, was that the implication was based solely on the presence of Nichol in the car at the time of the accident. It also seemed odd that the obituary for Sylvia had made no mention of a grieving boyfriend involved in the accident. 

She found herself wondering almost morbidly what results the accident investigation had produced and pulled the small stack of papers off the printer as she dug for her cell phone. Conscious of how sound would carry in the silence of the library, she quickly sent Trowa a text message to request the autopsy and accident reports before returning to her own search. This time she keyed in a search for Nichol Anders. She couldn’t help the feeling that he was at the center of whatever had happened to Duo, whether he’d had a part in it or not, and the mention of his presence at a number of tragic accidents had only piqued her curiosity.

Engrossed in her work, Dorothy jumped when the girl shelving books moved past her, the cart bumping her carrel. 

“I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t disturb you.” The blond girl smiled at her as she tried to maneuver the cart away from the small desk, and Dorothy forced herself to return the smile even as she tried to get her heart rate back to normal. 

“That’s okay… I was just a little deep in my research. Probably too deep, actually,” Dorothy shrugged. “No harm done.”

“Good.” The girl managed to free the cart, but didn’t quite move away. Dorothy could see the curiosity in her eyes. “Let me know if you need help finding anything. This place is pretty small; we don’t get a lot of strangers here.”

“Thanks,” Dorothy muttered. “But I think I’m good.”

The girl nodded, turning to move on towards the next row with her cart when her gaze happened to fall upon the computer screen and her smile faltered. Dorothy followed her gaze back to the screen to see that her search query had pulled up a short list of hits for Nichol Anders. The girl blinked, glancing almost fearfully from the screen to the printouts on the desk and her face lost all remaining color abruptly. But when she looked up at Dorothy, there was an oddly hopeful look on her face.

“What are…are you a Preventer?” It was the last question she’d actually expected, and Dorothy just stared at the girl in stunned horror while trying frantically to figure out what had given her away. 

“W-what?” She finally managed to ask, hoping the shock was at least somewhat concealed. “Why on earth would you think that?”

“Because no one else would come here, looking up that stuff… you definitely aren’t local… and you don’t really look like a cop…” the girl trailed off slowly. 

“I’m just a student.” Dorothy shook her head. 

“Oh.” The girl’s face fell again, and Dorothy could hear the disappointment in her voice. “Sorry… that was probably a pretty stupid question."

Dorothy frowned at the screen for a moment, trying to decide if digging for information would be possible under the circumstances. “Why would a Preventer be interested in the obituary of someone killed in a car accident?”

The girl hesitated, looking around the library nervously as if she expected to find someone watching them. “I’m sorry… it was a stupid question for me to ask. You’re right. That would be… silly. The Preventers have far more important things to worry about... than…”

“Than what?” Dorothy prompted. 

“Than… making sure it really was an accident.” The girl flushed. “I’m being stupid again, it’s a bad habit of mine. Please forgive me for bothering you.” She turned away with almost frantic haste. 

“Wait…” Dorothy reached out, not sure what to think of the girl’s reaction. 

“I have to get back to work.”

“And if I _was_ a Preventer?” Dorothy asked softly, and the girl froze again. “If you know something about Sylvia Noventa’s death, why didn’t you call the nearest Preventers branch yourself?”

Troubled blue eyes met hers grimly. “I don’t know anything.”

In for a penny, she thought with a mental grimace, and fished her badge out of her purse one-handed as she kept her gaze locked on the other girl’s. It landed on Sylvia Noventa’s obituary with a soft thump. The girl jumped slightly, staring at it silently for a long moment. Dorothy let her study it, and prayed that she hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of her career. 

The silence stretched out for several minutes, before the girl let out a shuddering sigh. “I… did call the nearest Preventer’s office. But I don’t actually-- have any evidence that it wasn’t an accident. So of course no one believed me. They certainly never came to investigate it, not once in the last seven months. They at least sent out agents last time.”

“Last time?”

“When…the…when the Anders family died. No one in the entire town believed that the fire was an accident.”

Dorothy blinked, not sure why that statement sent chills down her back as she remembered Nichol’s conversation with his mysterious guest. “I’m here now… and I’m very curious about what you know, whether you have evidence or not.” 

The girl glanced over her shoulder towards the librarian, who was watching them with a suspicious frown, then looked back at Dorothy. “I can help you with that; it always takes a while to get used to the search function.” She spoke in a slightly louder voice than the hissed whispers that they had been exchanging, and the librarian looked away. 

Dorothy leaned back, letting her companion bend closer to the computer and type in a quick query. To her surprise, the page that came up was an in depth analysis of Dante’s Inferno for college students. 

“What is your name?” Dorothy prompted softly. “Please… I need your help.”

“Relena…” The girl bit her lip, then nodded. 

“How do you know it wasn’t an accident, Relena?” Dorothy prompted softly, as the printer started to crank out copies of The Inferno.

“Because Sylvia knew she was going to die. She said goodbye to me…before she and Nichol left Quatre’s party. She was my best friend…and we both knew, when she said goodbye that night, that it was forever.”

“Are you sure she wasn’t just nervous about driving after a bad storm?”

The girl picked up Dorothy’s pen, scribbling an address onto the back of one of the pages as they printed out. “I’m sure. Besides… Nichol was riding with her. That pretty much negates any possibility that it was an accident.”

“Why?” Dorothy frowned. “You think he caused the accident?”

“Oh, no--” Relena threw her a surprised look. “Nichol loved her. He wouldn’t have harmed her…especially… since…” The girl glanced nervously over her shoulder at the librarian, but the older woman was not looking in their direction.

“Especially since…what?”

“She was carrying his baby.” 

“What?” Dorothy sat back in shock. 

“I… she’d told me a few weeks before the accident, when she first found out. She was… about three months along. I’d never seen her so happy, and scared at the same time. She didn’t know what to do… how they were going to hide the fact that she was pregnant. She swore me to secrecy. I… I never told anyone. Not even after the accident. But… you’re a Preventer…”

“Why would they have had to hide it? Would her parents have thrown her out?”

“No. It wasn’t her parents she was afraid of. It was Walker.”

“Walker?”

“Walker. Nichol’s brother.” Relena’s voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. “Why are you looking up this stuff… if you don’t know about Walker? Who are you?” The girl looked frightened again, and tried to back away. “Oh God… what have I done?”

“I told you… I’m a Preventer.”

“But…”

“Nichol Anders is… involved in a situation at Romefeller University. I’m trying to find out as much about his background as I can, because I think that might be the key. But I’m stumbling in the dark here. I need your help, Relena.”

“So-- you aren’t here because… because I called the Preventers? Because of the accident?”

“No. But I think that the accident is involved somehow. I need to know as much as you can tell me about Nichol… and his brother.”

“Look-- the library is going to close soon, and it’s really not safe to talk here anyway.” 

“Not safe…?” Dorothy raised on eyebrow curiously. “Not safe from what?”

“Not what…who.” The girl flashed a nervous smile at her, then pointed to the address she’d written down on the paper before shuffling the papers together so that the newspaper articles were hidden. “Meet me there at two. And I’ll tell you what I know about Nichol… and his brother.”

“Thank you.”

Relena nodded to her then quickly moved her cart of books away without a backward look.

Dorothy stared silently at the computer for a long moment, before clearing out her searches. She knew she was just touching the tip of an iceberg of information, but Relena’s insistence of danger was only adding to her own uneasy feelings. Quickly logging off of the computer, she bent to gather up her belongings. 

Behind her, she heard the front door of the library open, and the sound of quickly smothered laughter was jarring in the quiet building. She glanced up instinctively, and then had to fight down the urge to duck completely under the desk as she recognized the two men approaching the librarian. In the month she’d been at Romefeller, she’d never seen Alex or Mueller crack a book; she would have laughed at the irony of running into them in a library of a town three hours away if the situation hadn’t been quite so grim. 

Fortunately, they were concentrating solely on the librarian and so far had not noticed her presence. She watched silently as they both approached the woman; then Alex jumped up to sit on the information desk. The woman sighed, and swatted him back off in what was obviously long habit.

“Alex… this is a library, not a jungle gym. And we haven’t closed quite yet. Why don’t you go on home, boys?” The woman’s voice, though soft, still carried clearly in the quiet room. “I should be there in an hour, but your father is likely home already.”

I don’t fucking believe this, Dorothy thought as she resisted the urge to bang her head repeatedly against the desk. Surreptitiously pulling her cell phone back out, she sent a quick S.O.S. to Trowa. 

“Can’t you close up early?”

“There are still people using the library, Alex.” 

“Yeah-- whatever.” She felt eyes pass over her, and kept her head bent over the papers on the desk.

“Did you need us to pick up anything on the way home?” Mueller asked. Dorothy blinked, glancing back over at the desk in surprise at hearing a solicitous tone in his voice. 

“No, thank you dear. Just go on home now.”

“Right. See you later then. Come on, Alex.”

“See ya, Mom.”

“Goodbye, boys.”

She waited for a good ten minutes after the door had closed behind them before she could bring herself to gather the rest of her things and stand up. The librarian glanced up at her approach. “Did you finish your research already, dear? We don’t close for another half an hour. There’s no need to rush.”

“Yes ma’am,” Dorothy smiled back at her. “The girl shelving books was a huge help. She helped me find the translation of Dante I’ve been looking for.”

“Good. Relena is always so helpful,” The librarian nodded. “How many pages do you have there?”

“Seventeen.” Dorothy concentrated on keeping her college student persona in place, as her eyes fell on the nameplate on the information desk: Agnes Noventa-Dietrich. She suddenly understood why Relena had not wanted the woman to overhear their conversation. The librarian was Sylvia’s mother. Realizing that the woman was waiting, she shook herself back to the present. “I’m sorry?”

“That will be $3.79.”

“Right.” She quickly fished a five out of her purse, careful to keep the badge hidden. “Thanks. Have a happy holiday.”

“You too, dear.”

She took her change quickly, then headed for the door. Taking a deep breath, she emerged from the quiet warmth of the library into the cold wind outside. Before she could start down the steps towards the street though, an arm dropped around her shoulders.

“Dorothy” Mueller said in her ear. “What a surprise. Nichol didn’t mention that you were coming to Thanksgiving dinner.”


	11. Chapter 11

"Dorothy," Mueller said in her ear. "What a surprise. Nichol didn't mention that you were coming to Thanksgiving dinner."

"I... wasn't planning on staying for dinner," she managed with a shrug, looking around to see if there was anyone else in sight. Unfortunately, they had the whole street to themselves. "I’m just passing through on my way to Harrisburg. He had recommended the library here, though. Said I might be able to find the last bit of research for my lit paper here."

"Really."

"Yes...really."

"I didn't think you spent a lot of time in libraries." 

"I didn't think you did either." She glanced from him to Alex, on her other side. "What a coincidence."

"Yeah," Alex growled. "Why are you really here, Dot? Checking up on your boyfriend already?"

"Of course not..." She caught sight of Trowa as he stepped around the corner of the post office on the next block, then vanished again. "I was doing research for a paper." She shrugged out from under Mueller's arm. "I can't afford to get kicked out of school. It's bad for business."

"So it is." Mueller frowned at her, but before he could say more, the door opened behind them. Dorothy forced the sudden relief off her face as Relena and their mother stepped out of the library behind them.

"Have a good holiday, Mrs. Noventa-Dietrich," Relena said quickly, throwing Dorothy a wide-eyed look as she started past them down the steps.

"You too, Relena," the woman waved, then glanced uncertainly back at her stepsons. "I didn't expect you boys to wait for me, but thank you..." 

"It was no problem," Mueller grinned at the woman, though when he turned back to Dorothy, the smile turned cold again, and much more threatening.

"Thanks again for the directions," she said hastily, pulling away from them and heading quickly down the steps towards where she'd last seen Trowa. "I appreciate it."

"You're quite welcome," Mueller muttered. "Have a happy Thanksgiving."

Forcing herself not to run, she walked down the block and around the corner as casually as she could manage; but she nearly collapsed in relief as Trowa's arms wrapped around her, and she buried her head against his shoulder for a moment.

"Are you okay?" He asked worriedly. "What happened? How did they find you?"

"The librarian is their stepmother." She started to laugh softly, as reaction set in. "Thank God she closed the library early. Did you get the reports from the police station?"

"Yes." He let go of her after a moment. "Let's get the hell out of town. We'll figure out how to fix this, Doro..."

"We can't leave just yet," Dorothy said with a grimace. "I-- have a contact that might be able to give us the information we need. But let's get back to the hotel for now. I'm freezing."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," she glanced at him. "I am. But thanks."

* * *

"This is the place." Dorothy nodded out the side window of Trowa's Duster as they drove past yet another large house. The address Relena had given them turned out to be one of the older areas in Northfork, and the houses were not only large, but set back from the street on carefully landscaped lots surrounded by ornate fences. 

"Nice," Trowa whistled softly, pulling over to the curb as he followed her gaze up the wide expanse of lawn on the other side of the iron fence. The house itself was mostly hidden behind a tall stand of ash trees, and only the windows of the upper stories were clearly visible. "And there's no way in hell I want to set foot in there."

"What?" Dorothy whipped her head around to stare at him. "This might be our chance to figure out this mess, and you're going to back out because of a fence?"

"No..." His eyes narrowed. "But I am an ex-thief, remember? This house reeks of Old Money, and Old Money generally means a lot of security." He shook his head. "And just because we don't see any armed guards doesn't mean they aren't there."

"And I was an heiress. Old Money doesn't have to mean armed guards," Dorothy grimaced as she remembered her grandfather's house. "Check out the security cameras. I'm betting on alarms to the private rent-a-cop office and a twice daily drive-by."

"Twenty bucks?"

"You're on."

Before either of them could say anything else, Relena stepped out of the shadow of the gatehouse and waved shyly.

"Well... shall we?" Dorothy asked quietly. "Or would you prefer to skulk about out here instead?"

"I do not skulk," Trowa threw her a mock glare, even as he turned the car into the circular drive in front of the imposing iron gates. "The correct term is lurk, thank you."

"Whatever."   
"Dorothy?" Relena approached the driver's side window as Trowa rolled it down, followed by a young blond man in his early twenties who hovered protectively and watched them both suspiciously. She smiled at them a little nervously. "Hi. I... I wasn't sure you'd still show up."

"Relena..." Dorothy managed a smile as well. "Hi. This is my partner, Trowa Barton."

"Nice to meet you," Relena nodded shyly at him. "I was waiting down here at the gatehouse. I was afraid you might not find the right place."

"It's kind of hard to miss," Trowa muttered, not looking remotely mollified by her presence outside the fortress walls. "Nice place."

"Thank you," the young man with her spoke for the first time.

"Oh, sorry. This is Quatre Winner... my fiancé. I thought it might be better to meet here, rather than my own house." 

Dorothy raised one eyebrow, curious at the odd phrasing of that last statement. "Is there any particular reason that your house is unsafe?"

"It's not so much that it's unsafe... as crowded. My brother and his wife are home for the holiday along with their three small children, and the rest of my extended family will be arriving within the next few hours." She smiled apologetically. "Besides which... I live down the street from the Dietrichs, and well...I'm assuming that if you are investigating Nichol Anders at Romefeller University, that you also know of Alex and Mueller Dietrich-- Sylvia's brothers. The ones at the library today."

"Yes... I am acquainted with them."

"Then it is probably even more vital to Relena's safety that they don't connect you to us," Quatre frowned at both of them. "If you don't mind, I think we ought to be having this conversation someplace a little more private. And I'd like to see your identification. Relena might trust that you are Preventers agents...but I'm a bit more paranoid."

Dorothy threw a questioning glance at Trowa, but after a brief hesitation he nodded. She dug her badge out of her purse, and flipped it open where Quatre could see it. Trowa produced his from his jacket, grudgingly opening it as well.

"I'll have Ahmed open the gate." Quatre stepped back towards the gatehouse. "Please come in."

"Thanks," Trowa muttered sardonically as the gates slowly opened to reveal a long, curving expanse of tree-lined driveway leading up the hill towards the house. Relena and Quatre were already halfway up the hill before the gates opened enough to let them pass. 

"Trowa..." 

"I said I don't want to go in there, and I still don't." He shrugged. "But that doesn't mean I'm letting you go in alone."

"Thank you."

"Yeah, well... if we make it out of this town alive, I'll think of some way you can make it up to me."

"I'm sure you will," she sighed. Neither of them spoke again as Trowa drove up the hill, parking the Duster in front of the six-car garage hidden from the street by the tall trees. 

Relena and Quatre were waiting for them on the wide front porch of the mansion, along with a hulking man in a neat uniform who looked more like the head of a private army than a butler.

"Rashid, we'll be in the back parlor." Quatre barely glanced at the man as he led the way inside the mansion. 

"I'll have refreshments sent back at once."

"Thank you, Rashid," Relena smiled sweetly. "Dorothy, Trowa, this way."

"Is there some reason that you are worried about your safety?" Dorothy asked as they filed into an immaculate parlor near the rear of the house. Quatre was standing by a large window looking out over the back lawn, and barely glanced up as they entered. Relena gestured at the couch facing the window before sitting down on the loveseat opposite. "Because you called the Preventers to investigate Sylvia Noventa's death?"

"I don't know how many people in this town you have talked to so far...but no one feels safe talking to strangers. We have to live here, after all." Quatre answered. "And it has only gotten worse after Sylvia's death.."

"And yet you approached me?" Dorothy raised one eyebrow questioningly at Relena as she sank down into the overstuffed cushions. "And contacted the Preventers for help...?"

"It's-- rather complicated," Relena sighed. "I didn't know who to go too for help... who to contact really. The local police-- they have turned a blind eye to certain things here in town for years, and they barely even considered the possibility that the accident wasn't...well... an accident."

"They told Relena she was hysterical. That Sylvia's death had made her delusional," Quatre scowled, moving over to sit on the love seat beside her and took her hand in his. "Which is nonsense."

"We're certainly willing to listen to what you have to say." Dorothy tried to look reassuring. "I don't know if we can help either, but if we can... we will."

"All I wanted was for someone to listen, to maybe look at the possibility," Relena said quietly. "I'm not really sure where to start though."

"Start with Nichol and his brother... " Dorothy frowned a little. "And we'll work our way around to the connection to Sylvia's death."

"Okay," Relena winced. "But a lot of this is going to sound really..." She broke off as the door to the parlor opened, and a maid entered with a tray of tea and cookies. At Relena's nod, the woman put the tray on the coffee table and began passing out delicate porcelain cups. Once everyone had been served, the woman vanished as silently as she had appeared; but it was still several minutes before Relena began speaking again. "It's probably stupid... I mean, I don't have any proof of anything... "

"Tell us anyway," Dorothy urged softly. "Whatever you think we need to know."

Trowa set his cup down on the nearest endtable and pulled a small notebook from his pocket. Relena relaxed visibly at the unexpected evidence of police routine, and her face brightened slightly.

"I don't know how familiar you are with small towns," Relena glanced from Trowa to Dorothy, and then back. "But everyone knows everyone else. There... aren't a lot of secrets most of the time. So when things happen that can't be explained, or that no one seems to know about... people get suspicious and talk starts."

"I am familiar with that phenomenon," Trowa said evenly. "I grew up in a small community."

"Well... let's just say that secrets seemed to follow the Anders family. At least they follow Walker Anders."

"That is Nichol's brother?" Trowa started writing in the notebook. "How big is the family?"

"Jack and Rose Anders had three kids. Elizabeth was the oldest. She would have been about four or five when Walker was born. His real name is Randall, but no one calls him that; he's gone by Walker since I can remember. And Nichol, he was the baby of the family, was born when Walker was three, I think."

"Do they still live here in town?"

"No. Jack and Rose Anders, and Elizabeth were all killed in a fire ten years ago. I guess Nichol would have been about thirteen at the time."

"You said secrets followed them around," Dorothy prompted carefully, when Relena hesitated. 

"Walker," Relena frowned slightly. "He was never really... like other kids. He was very smart, but cold and cruel. I'm not sure how else to describe him, except cruel. Though he was fiercely protective of his little brother; nobody with any sense messed with Nichol, because Walker was never far away. His parents didn't seem to know what to do with him, and he ended up pretty much running wild most of the time. When he was around, pets had a tendency to go missing, and things would get broken. No one ever actually saw him do anything... it was just kind of... an unspoken thing that he was behind it."

"Was he involved with a gang at all?"

"Only his own." Relena shuddered. "He and Mueller Dietrich were practically soul-mates from the moment they first met, which was about the time that both of them learned to crawl. The Dietrichs lived next door to the Anders, up until Walker and Mueller were in junior high, I guess. So they were pretty much inseparable. And Alex followed Mueller's lead in everything. I'm not sure he even knows how to think for himself. Sylvia was only about four when her mother married Arnold Dietrich, so she grew up tagging along behind them. Nichol was kind of the same, always hanging around Walker and Mueller."

"Elizabeth wasn't part of this...group?" Trowa looked up from his notes with a frown. 

"Elizabeth wouldn't have anything to do with Walker. I think she liked Nichol okay, but she hated Walker. So did their grandmother, Victoria Anders. She lived outside of town, in this huge house up in the mountains. When I was little, I thought she was a witch, because she always wore black and lived alone even thought she was really old. My brother Mil once told me she used to have a lot of cats, but they disappeared too after a while. Everyone said she was rich...but the house was in pretty bad shape, and she wouldn't give a penny of it to her son, because of Walker. The Anders family lived in one of the poorer areas of town, out on the edge by the water treatment plant."

"Did she die in the fire too?"

"No... she had a heart attack, several years before that. She'd made an appointment with her lawyer, and when she didn't keep it, he went out there. He found her body at the foot of the front staircase. According to rumor, she was planning to change her will so that there was no way Walker would ever get any of her money. But after she died, it turns out she hadn't ever done it. Jack Anders inherited everything, including the house in the mountains, so the whole family picked up and moved up there."

"Convenient." Trowa glanced up from his notes, meeting Dorothy's eyes with a grim smile. "How old was Walker again?"

"Yes..." Relena sighed. "It was too convenient for a lot of people. Walker was only thirteen, and Nichol, Alex and Mueller all swore that all four of them had been camping, but no one else could verify their story. The police investigated Victoria Anders' death, but there was no evidence that it was anything other than a heart attack and the fall that killed her. However, the coincidence was blatant enough that even the Anders' noticed. They sent Walker to a psychiatrist for testing."

"Any idea how that turned out?" Dorothy asked. "And was it a local doctor? Do you know his name?"

"Yes, but it won't help. Dr. Loomis was killed in a car accident after the third session. Again, no evidence that it was anything but bad luck and mechanical failure...but the timing was equally suspicious, as he was on his way to a meeting with Jack and Rose Anders about his diagnosis. A team of Preventers was sent to investigate, but they couldn't prove anything either."

"Did they try to take him to another doctor?"

"I don't think so... and I don't think they could have made him go anyway."

"You mentioned in the library, that no one believed the fire was an accident," Dorothy mused quietly. "Tell us about the fire."

"The fire... happened almost ten years ago, in the middle of the night. It started in the kitchen, but spread through most of the house quickly. Both their parents and Elizabeth died in the fire. They'd... gotten trapped in their bedrooms. But Walker managed to drag Nichol out somehow. They were standing there, watching the house burn when the firefighters and police finally arrived. Nichol was in shock; he didn't speak for nearly a week afterwards. Walker... acted like nothing at all had happened."

"Interesting."

"Yeah. By this time, everyone was kind of wary of Walker. It just wasn't a normal reaction, you know?"

"One of my brother-in-law's is a volunteer firefighter," Quatre spoke up unexpectedly. "He told me that Walker actually asked for marshmallows, while they were still trying to get the fire put out. Most of the house was completely destroyed. I think there's part of one wing left, and that's about it."

"Charming," Dorothy grimaced, remembering only too well the oddness in the stranger's voice as he talked to Nichol.

"Yeah. Since Nichol was only thirteen, and Walker was sixteen, the Dietrichs took them in. No one else would have taken Walker that's for certain. He didn't have a lot of friends, just Mueller and Alex. They were the town bullies. But he was also really smart, and kept passing his classes even though he only showed up occasionally. Once they turned eighteen, he and Mueller moved into an apartment of their own. Nichol stayed with the Dietrichs for several years after that, until he graduated as well."

"You mentioned the police turn a blind eye to things in town, yet it sounds like they investigated every accident."

"They stopped after the fire. Almost overnight, in fact." Quatre shrugged. "It was kind of strange, actually. According to Auda, my brother-in-law, they actually found evidence that the fire was not accidental, but the Sheriff closed the investigation anyway."

"What about the Fire Chief? Arson would fall under his jurisdiction...."

"He's the Sheriff's cousin," Relena shook her head. "The Sheriff closed all investigations regarding Walker Anders, and absolutely refuses to open any new ones, even when it became common knowledge that Mueller and Walker were dealing drugs. Since then, he has gotten away with pretty much whatever he wants to do."

"How...odd," Dorothy muttered. 

"You said Mueller and Walker were dealing drugs. Do you know which drugs? And was Nichol involved?"

"Alex was involved. I think Nichol used sometimes, but neither he nor Sylvia really had anything to do with the drug dealing. As for which drugs... I really have no idea." 

"What can you tell us about Sylvia? You mentioned she was your best friend, yet it sounds like she spent most of her time with her stepbrothers."

"She was my best friend." Relena took a sip of her tea, obviously fighting back tears. "We met in kindergarten. As I mentioned earlier, her mother married Arnold Dietrich when she was four. Agnes... had met her first husband, Jacob Noventa, in college. But apparently after his death, she had a falling out with his family, and brought Sylvia back to her hometown to raise. I guess she'd known Arnold Dietrich as a kid growing up here. I can't imagine why she would have married him though. She's really a nice woman, and he's... well."

"He doesn't exactly have the best reputation," Quatre finished for her. "It's rather common knowledge that he was the one who set Mueller and Walker up with their first business venture. And when he suddenly came into a lot of money, and they moved uptown... I doubt anyone seriously believed the money had been inherited."

"My father claimed that Arnold Dietrich married Agnes Noventa because he thought she had received a large life insurance settlement after Jacob Noventa's death. But somehow, I think Jacob's parents managed to have it put into a trust for Sylvia. That might have been part of the falling out. All I know is that Marshall Noventa and his wife Sophia would have nothing to do with Agnes after she married Arnold Dietrich, and Sylvia only ever saw them a few times. The only time Sylvia ever mentioned it, she said that was why Arnold had never adopted her, so that her grandparents wouldn't cut her off entirely." Relena shook her head sadly. "I think Agnes was... afraid to leave him, even after it became obvious that he wasn't the boy she'd grown up with after all."

"Quite possibly," Dorothy murmured. "I got the impression that she isn't entirely... comfortable... around her stepsons."

"No. I think she was grateful that Sylvia was several grades behind even Alex in school, which meant that she had a few opportunities to make other friends."   
Relena turned the cup in her hands absently, sending tea sloshing over the edge.

Quatre took the cup from her carefully, placing it on the table with a faint sigh.

"Like you." Dorothy handed her several napkins from the tray.

"Yes, like me." Relena sighed, dabbing at the tea for a moment, then letting the napkins drop forgotten into her lap. "Sylvia... she was really very sweet, and had an odd innocence, even when she was around her brothers and Walker. And to be honest, I think they felt it too, and sheltered her from a lot of what they did. Mueller and Alex truly thought of her as a little sister, and Walker... was very protective of her, just like he was of Nichol. I think she was a lot closer to being a sister to him than Elizabeth ever was. And Nichol genuinely worshiped the ground she walked on. Nichol might have been the only one of them that never thought of her as a sister."

"And yet you think Walker might have been involved with the accident?"

"It's...complicated." Relena broke off her recital and turned to look out the window for a long few minutes. "She grew up with them. She was...everybody's cute little sister. Until she reached high school, anyway. Then I think all of them realized she had grown up. She and Nichol were...kind of a couple in high school, but they didn't officially start dating until Nichol had graduated, and moved out of her parents' house. I think they both knew that her mother at least would have been horrified that they were a couple while they were still living under the same roof. Not to mention her grandparent’s reaction."

"At first, Walker seemed to be happy that they were together, or at least he didn't seem to mind much," Quatre picked up the story with a frown. 

"Something happened to change that?"

"Nichol and Mueller both left to go to university, Nichol at Penn State and Mueller at Romefeller. And Walker... started hanging around Sylvia more."

"But she and Nichol had not broken up? Wasn't that a little weird, that she would date both of them?"

"Date isn't quite the right word, at least not for her relationship with Walker. He just seemed to become even more possessive of her time and attention when it was only the three of them left in town. But she was a little afraid of trying too hard to discourage him. Walker could be charming when he wanted to be, but even Sylvia was wary of making him truly angry. Nichol was only home on the long weekends and semester breaks, and I think in an odd sort of way...staying close to her was Walker's way of staying close to his little brother even though he was far away."

"Lovely." Dorothy frowned pensively down at the cup of cold tea she had almost forgotten she was holding. "Maybe he found out she was pregnant with Nichol's child... and that was why she died? Though if he was as protective of Nichol as you say...you wouldn't think he would do something that might kill him too."

"No," Quatre shook his head. "That is the only part that doesn't fit. I don't think he would have been jealous of them having a baby, or being together. He was close to her, but he was still more like an older brother than a serious boyfriend. I personally thought it might have been because he suspected she was considering going away to University too, and he didn't want to lose both of them."

"Was there some reason that he couldn't just go to University as well?"

Both Quatre and Relena blinked, as if the idea had never occurred to them. "I...really don't know if he ever even considered it. I suppose there is not reason he couldn't have. He was certainly smart enough..."

"So we still come back to the fact that there is no proof that the wreck was deliberate." Trowa glanced up from his notes.

"No. The police ruled it an accident almost immediately."

"Did Walker have an alibi?"

"Actually, yes," Quatre growled. "He-- was out with my sister, Iria." 

"He...was dating your sister too? Or was she afraid to say no to him as well?"

"Iria had been in school with Walker and Mueller since first grade, and she was Sylvia's math tutor in high school and had even babysat for Sylvia she was little" Relena said quietly. "So she'd known the family, and even Walker, for a long time. It wasn't completely out of the blue. And... well, we said Walker could be very charming when he wanted to be," Relena explained with a shrug.

"I think she only went out with him initially to bug my father, back when they were juniors. My father predictably threw a fit and ended up sending her away to a prep school for her senior year. And she didn't come rushing back immediately after graduation, but stayed away to attend University. So I don't think it was terribly serious on her part. I'm not sure she and Walker had even spoken the last few years. But a couple of weeks before the accident, she came back to Northfork to visit before starting her residency. And she and Walker hooked up again." He smiled grimly. "I think my father nearly had a coronary when he found out."

"I can imagine. Walker doesn't sound like the sort of person I would want my daughter dating." Trowa threw Dorothy a dark glance. "Or even Nichol, for that matter." 

"What happened after the accident?"

"Nichol was shattered." Relena shivered. "He left town immediately after he got out of the hospital."

"How did Walker react?"

"He and Nichol... had a huge fight, right before Nichol left. I think Nichol accused him of causing Sylvia's death. Walker went on a destructive rampage all over town. But the police only warned him to stay away from town until he cooled down, rather than arresting him, even though there had been plenty of witnesses to the vandalism. He disappeared for a while, and then when the fall came, Alex followed Mueller to Romefeller as well. I think... I think losing Sylvia had kind of damaged something in all of them. But with all of his friends gone, Walker stopped coming into town at all. I'm not even sure exactly where he lives, or if he's even still in the area." Relena absently picked up the soggy napkins in her lap and started shredding them.

"After Sylvia's death, Nichol transferred to Romefeller. Nobody was really surprised that he left town, but it was weird that he'd chosen to go to the same University as Mueller and Alex." Quatre glanced down, then reached out to take Relena's hands in his, halting the nervous movements of his fingers. Relena glanced down as well and blushed slightly.

"Maybe he didn't have a lot of choice in where he went," Dorothy mused softly. "And they were friends. People do tend to go where there are familiar faces, especially when dealing with the trauma of losing loved ones."

"I suppose so."

"Is there anything else you can think of that might help us?"

"It's not enough, is it?" Relena asked softly, studying them intently. "That's why the Preventers didn't come out to investigate the accident, right?"

"There's not a lot here that will stand up in a court," Trowa said quietly. "Every thing you've told us is merely hearsay and speculation. And I went over the accident reports... there was nothing to indicate that it was anything else. There was no obvious sabotage to the vehicle, no sign of a struggle...."

Dorothy winced at the look of disappointment on the younger girl's face. "We'll look into it... but I can't guarantee anything. That's not the main case we're working."

"But if you do find anything?"

"We'll let you know if we can," Dorothy reassured her. "And if you think of anything else that we should know... " she handed her card to Relena. "Please call me."

"Thank you." Relena smiled wistfully. "For even listening to me. I'm really not making all this up."

"I believe you," Dorothy reassured her gently. "But without hard evidence of wrongdoing... our hands are tied. I would suggest being very careful though. If Walker was behind the accident, and is still in the area, if he knows you are contacting the Preventers." 

"Relena is safe enough," Quatre announced. "My family has many resources, as well as bodyguards. She will be safe." He eyed them with a frown though. "It is you who had best be careful. Asking questions about Nichol, and Alex and Mueller here, in this town... is a dangerous thing."

"I'm beginning to see that." Trowa put the notebook away and stood up. "And I think we've learned all we can on this trip anyway."

"Drive safely." Quatre gestured toward the door, an unmistakable signal that the interview was over. Relena stayed in the parlor as he showed them out, staring silently out into the garden.

It was only after they were safely back in Trowa's car and on the highway heading home that either of them dared to bring up the subject.

"What do you think?" Dorothy asked softly.

"I'm thinking it could all just be jealousy and coincidence." Trowa shrugged. "Or we've just stirred up a hornet's nest. And being either Nichol's girlfriend or his roommate could be a bad thing."

"Yeah. That's about what I was thinking."


	12. Chapter 12

“What do you mean, you want to come to Thanksgiving dinner at the orphanage?” Duo stared at Heero Yuy in shocked horror. 

“I thought it was pretty clear,” Heero tried his best to sound reasonable. He’d known this wasn’t going to go over well with the younger man. “I want to spend today with you… actually, make that the rest of the holiday weekend too.”

“This is really just some elaborate nightmare, right? Anytime now, I’ll wake up and all of this—this farce—will all just fade away.”

“Unfortunately-- no,” Heero sighed. “Look, I promise not to lay on the whole boyfriend thing too heavy in front of…uh…”

“A lot of priests and nuns,” Duo finished the sentence dryly. “And that would be very much appreciated. But they’re my family. I think I’ll be safe with them for one day. I don’t need you to hover there, of all places.”

Heero frowned. “Maybe. But there have been some new developments. You might be in more danger than we thought, and not just of losing time.”

“I might be in danger of losing my mind, and my GPA,” Duo growled. “You do realize that I have gotten almost no studying done for the last week? And I’ve got an exam next Tuesday.”

“Bring your books. You can crash at my place for the rest of the weekend, and study there. I promise I’ll let you study in peace… as long as you’re where I can protect you.”

“Stay at your apartment?” Duo paled, stepping back. 

“You’ll be safe there.”

“Where we- where I…?”

Heero winced. He hadn’t forgotten the circumstances of Duo’s last visit to his apartment, exactly; but he had to admit he hadn’t really thought much about Duo’s reaction to going back there. “I’ll take the couch, if it will make you feel better.”

“It wouldn’t.” Duo rolled his eyes. “Look, it’s been a week, no one’s done or said anything… I really don’t think this danger is as bad as you think.”

“Are you willing to bet your life on that?”

Duo opened his mouth to answer, then hesitated. “You really think I’m in that much danger?”

“I really do.”

“Fine.” He rubbed one hand through the messy bangs hanging in his eyes. “But I want the couch.”

* * *

Duo steeled himself as Heero turned the last corner onto Shaughnessy street. The orphanage was in sight now, and he could see the gaggle of children playing on the cobbled together jungle gym in the side yard turning at the sound of the motorcycle on the normally quiet street. Tapping Heero’s shoulder, he let go of his death grip on the other man’s jacket to point at the building. Heero nodded, his helmet bobbing with the motion, and the bike veered directly at the rather small and overcrowded parking lot beside the small parish church. Duo yelped, tightening his fingers back into the folds of leather and closing his eyes.

“Whoa! Cool bike, dude!” He opened his eyes to see Mikey staring at the bike in awe, his green eyes shining. “Is that a Harley?”

“Mikey!” Duo ripped off the helmet to glare at the ten-year-old. “You know better than to talk to strangers on the street!”

“He’s not a stranger! You’re with him,” the child pointed out. “Can I ride on it too?”

“It’s a Valkyrie.” Heero removed his own helmet, then turned to glance at Duo expectantly.

“Mikey, this is Heero. And no, you can’t go for a ride.” Duo steeled himself for the protests that were sure to follow that announcement. “Heero, this is Mikey, that’s Christopher, Pete and Liza is the one in the back.”

“You got to ride on the bike! Why can’t I?” As expected, the boy’s face fell into a pout. “I never get to do anything fun! Why…?”

“You aren’t old enough, and Heero doesn’t have a helmet that would fit you.” Duo climbed off the motorcycle with a sigh. 

“When you’re taller, you can ride with me,” Heero promised solemnly, throwing Duo an amused glance. 

“But that could take years!” 

“If something is worth doing, it’s worth waiting for.” Duo turned to see Sister Helen watching him with a mixture of affection and disapproval on her face. “All of you, inside and wash up. We’re almost ready to eat.”

“Hi Sister Helen,” Duo hugged the nun, trying to delay the inevitable questions. “You look well today.”

“I look exactly as I did two weeks ago when you were at Mass.” She swatted him affectionately. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you weren’t there last Sunday.”

“I wasn’t feeling well,” Duo admitted with a shrug. “Sister, this is Heero. He’s a- uh- friend from school.”

“Hello, Heero. Welcome to St. Paul’s.”

“Thank you.” 

“Come in, come in… everyone else is already downstairs, and Father Maxwell will be carving the turkey in a few minutes.” She turned to shoo the children inside. “We’re glad you could join us, Heero. Duo hasn’t brought many of his friends around before.”

“Really?” Heero threw Duo another amused look, as he took the helmet from him and stowed it with his own on the back of the motorcycle. “I feel honored then.”

Duo waited until Sister Helen had turned to go inside before smacking Heero on the arm. “Will you stop it?”

“Stop what?” Heero arched one brow at him. “I meant it.”

“You feel honored for bullying your way into a free meal. Great.”

“Duo…”

“Never mind. Let’s just get through this meal.” Duo threw him a last scowl before turning to lead the way inside the church. “God, this is going to be a long day.”

* * *

To his surprise and relief, the meal itself passed smoothly. Heero kept his word and treated him casually, as he would any other friend. Father Thomas turned out to be a motorcycle buff as well, and as soon as they’d finished eating, the two of them vanished out to the parking lot in the midst of a debate on two stroke versus four stroke engines. Duo stared after them in bemused silence for a long moment before helping Sister Helen and Sister Marguerite clear the table.

“Heero seems like a nice boy,” Sister Marguerite mentioned as she passed him with a stack of dirty plates. “What is he studying at Romefeller?”

“Actually, he’s not really attending the University,” Duo hedged uncomfortably. “He’s more of a friend of a friend.”

“Oh.” She had nodded, but he could see the uncertainty in her eyes. 

“His ex-girlfriend is dating my roommate, actually.”

“Isn’t that rather awkward?”

“They seem to be alright with it,” he shrugged. “But he didn’t have anywhere else to spend Thanksgiving Day now, so I invited him here.”

“That was kind of you.” She patted his shoulder. “You always were a thoughtful boy.”

“Thanks, Sister Marguerite.” 

Turning back to his task of scraping plates into the trashcan before stacking them in the sink, it was a moment before he realized Sister Helen had paused in the midst of washing dishes to study him.

“What?” He asked uncomfortably, meeting her eyes for just a moment before looking down again. 

“Is everything okay?” she asked with a sigh. “You seem to be…”

“To be what?”

“Nervous.”

“Why would I be nervous about being here?” He tried for innocent, but hoped he was at least managing not guilty.

“I believe that should be my question. Duo, did something…is something going on at Romefeller?”

“N-no. Everything… everything is good.” Setting the last plate down on the counter, he backed as casually as he could manage towards the door. “I… just need to go check on Heero.”

“Duo.” Setting down the washcloth, she dried her hands on the nearest towel and turned to face him. Her expression kept him frozen in place, even as his head screamed at him to run. “Are you dating him?”

“What?” Duo winced at the startled squeak that came out of his mouth. “I…uh… no. No.”

“Because if you are, I expect better from you than to lie to me about it.” Her expression lightened slightly, as he stared at her in abject panic. “And it wouldn’t be the end of the world.”

“Not according to Father Bailey.”

“Father Bailey has a rather…limited view of the real world,” she snorted, for just a moment sounding more like the mother he’d always wanted than the nun that had raised him. “I just wanted you to know that if you need to talk…or if something is wrong…”

“I know.”

“Heero seems like a nice young man.”

Biting back the words that nearly spilled out at that, Duo settled what he hoped was a fairly normal if embarrassed look on his face. “He is. Thanks, Sister. But I really should…” At that moment, Sister Marguerite returned, interrupting the tense silence.

“Fine then,” Sister Helen rolled her eyes. “Run and hide.”

Duo hugged her quickly, then dived out the door towards relative safety. It was only after he’d reached the parking lot, that he realized that concept had somehow grown to include Heero.

* * *

“What do you mean, his girlfriend was snooping around Northfork?”

“Dude— just that. She was in the library yesterday. Claimed that Nicky had recommended it, or some shit, and she stopped in to do homework on the way to Harrisburg.”

“And you think it was something else?”

“She’s fronting for a new crew setting up to deal in Romefeller, not a member of the freaking honor roll. I just… it’s suspicious. Especially since Nichol didn’t come home with us.”

“He’s coming at Christmas.”

“Walker, you need to face the fact that your brother may be selling you out. She could be a cop…or even a Preventer.” Mueller eyed his friend with true sympathy, but also a healthy dose of wariness.

“Nicky would never sell me out.” Cold, hard eyes turned to meet his for the first time. “He’s my brother.”

“And that meant how much to you when it came to the old lady, your parents or your sister?” Left unspoken was the addition of Syl’s name to the list, but even Mueller knew better than to bring her name up lightly.

“Nicky would never sell me out,” Walker repeated, and this time Mueller let the subject change. He’d taken enough of a risk just planting the idea.

“I just think maybe we should do some checking on her, and make sure. ‘Cause maybe Nichol doesn’t know what she is…or that she was here.”

“Ask then. Find out who she talked to and if she was alone.”

“And if she is a cop?”

Walker scowled at him. “Then we deal with it then. I won’t have cops…or Preventers… bothering Nichol.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“You’ll tell me what you find out… and I’ll decide how to take care of it,” Walker’s voice dropped into the low growl that meant even Mueller would not get away with pushing. “I mean that, Mueller.”

“Yeah, man. Of course.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a point in even the best laid plans, where everything goes to hell.

Nichol glanced up as Mueller dropped into the chair across from him in the nearly deserted cafeteria.

“Back from Thanksgiving early? It’s only Saturday.”

“I felt bad, knowing you were here all alone,” Mueller shrugged, for once sober and serious. For just an instant, the concern in his voice brought back memories of when they’d still been friends; memories from before the accident, when they were still five strong instead of a broken four. “Mom misses you, Nicky.”

For a long moment, Nichol just stared at him, then looked away. “I couldn’t, man. It—it just hurts too much. Still.”

“I know,” Mueller sighed. “It’s only been seven months. Give yourself time, Nicky.”

“Who are you? And should I be afraid to go to sleep tonight?”

“Shut up, asshole. I’m trying to be serious and supportive here.”

“Don’t strain yourself. But—thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Seriously, dude. Syl hasn’t even been dead a year yet. Maybe you’re just trying too hard to move on.”

“Trying too hard?” Nichol stilled in the act of reaching for his drink, and eyed Mueller curiously. 

“Yeah. You know—the new girlfriend and all.”

“I thought you were all for trying to help me hook up?”

Mueller shrugged. “Maybe I just think you should wait for someone _better_ to come along.”

“Better,” Nichol said, his voice flat. “I figured you would approve of Dorothy.”

“I don’t know, Nicky. There’s just something _odd_ about her.” 

“Odd?” Nichol stifled a laugh at that, staring at Mueller in surprise. “ _You_ think _Dorothy_ is odd? She’s a drug dealer too, dude. You guys have odd nailed down all across the board, in my opinion.”

“Nichol, I’m being serious here.” Mueller shook his head. “There’s just something suspicious about her, man. Did you know she showed up in Northfork on Wednesday?”

“Did she?” Nichol shrugged. “She was heading for Harrisburg.”

“Northfork isn’t exactly on the direct path from here to Harrisburg, Nicky. That doesn’t strike you as questionable?”

“Not especially. Did she do anything in particular to make you this paranoid?”

“Spent some time in the library.”

Nichol raised one eyebrow. “Oh, yeah— because actually studying is the sign of something seriously wrong in a college student.”

“She’s not exactly on the honor roll, Nicky. She’s a drug dealer. And studying, in a strange town, the day before Thanksgiving?”

“She’s in danger of flunking out of Jordan’s Lit class.” Nichol rolled his eyes. “Kind of hard to conduct business on campus if she fails, yeah?” His grin widened. “But long hours in the library studying, especially over a holiday, doesn’t exactly fit the drug-dealing image, does it?

“I just think you should be careful man. I know you haven’t ever been big on public displays or anything, even with Syl. But you haven’t been encouraging this girl at all, and she’s still hanging around, and damn close. Just—watch your back, Nicky.”

“I always do.” Nichol let his voice grow cold as he shoved his chair back and stood. “And I’m not planning to marry her, okay? Seriously, Mueller— she’s just a girl. Stop using whatever the hell is making you this paranoid, huh?”

 

* * *

Dorothy stared at the closed door for a long moment, before finally working up the nerve to knock. She’d spent a full day arguing with herself about the stupidity of being there; knowing that Trowa was right about the possible danger of confronting Nichol, or of getting dragged farther into whatever Mueller and Alex were involved with. But if going to Northfork ended up blowing her cover, then Duo was in more danger than he’d been to start with, and it would be all her fault.

When the door opened, she found herself speechless for the first time in years. Nichol blinked at her, then stepped back without a word to let her in. It was as if she was seeing him for the first time, and the odd quirks that had originally puzzled her were now falling into place with horrifying ease. He pointed silently at Duo’s bed, then sank down on his own with his usual lack of expression.

“So. How was your Thanksgiving?” She flushed at the stupidity of that question as she sank down on the edge of Duo’s bed, but it had been the first thing to pop into her head.

“It was fine.” Only years of working with Heero let her see the first hint of amusement cross his face. “I didn’t do much. I wasn’t in the mood for a holiday.”

“You didn’t go home?”

“No.” He didn’t elaborate, just shrugged. “What about you?”

“I— went to Harrisburg.” 

“Good trip?”

“Yeah. Well. Family time gets a little in the way of business, sometimes.”

“It does.” Leaning back against the wall, he eyed her patiently. “You’re nervous.”

“What?” She stared across at him, something on his face sending chills down her spine.

“I know you went to Northfork, Dorothy. Were you checking up on me? Or trying to scope out the competition?”

“I—“ she scrambled to remember her cover, even as she felt everything crumbling to dust around her.

“It really doesn’t matter which, Dorothy.” To her shock, he laughed; though the sound was oddly lacking in humor. “If you really are that concerned, I’ll save you the effort and assure you I’m not dating anyone else on the side. And if it was to check out the competition, well, just ask me next time.”

“Ask you?”

“Don’t mess around with Mueller, okay? He’s a lot more dangerous than you realize.”

She blinked at him, not sure what to make of the grim look on his face, or the serious tone. Even knowing what they’d already pieced together, she could only guess what he was really warning her about.

“Yeah. I, uh, kinda got that impression.”

“I’m serious.” For just a moment, she thought she saw pain, grief and fear flash across his face, almost too quickly to register. “Stay out of his way, Dorothy.”

* * *

The shrill electronic chords of Rammstein sliced through his dream, interrupting the action just as the blood really started to flow. Mueller groaned, blinking awake and staring blearily at the clock next to his bed. 4 a.m.

“This better be fucking good,” he growled, fumbling his cell phone from the nightstand with a disgusted grimace.

“The new girlfriend. She’s a Preventer.”

“Huh?” He blinked, sitting up in the dark dorm room with a groan. “Walker?”

“Nichol’s girl— the one you said was in town last Wednesday? There was a Preventer questioning the cops that same day, about Syl’s accident.”

“You sure, man?” Mueller felt his stomach twist. As much as he’d let Alex twist the knife on Nichol, and predicted that things would blow up by Christmas—he realized for the first time that he’d never really believed Nichol would turn on them. Not on Walker.

“Got a call from the Sheriff, warning me.”

“You think Nichol knows?”

“I don’t know.” He could hear the doubt in Walker’s voice, the unwillingness to believe it had come to this after so long. “Does it matter? If the Preventers are finally looking into Syl’s death, and one is that close to Nicky—“

“So they’re looking into her death.” Mueller tried to wake up the rest of the way, and get his brain to work through the faded remains of last night’s buzz “There’s nothing for them to find, right?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Something filtered through the back of his sleep dazed mind, but Mueller didn’t have time to chase it down. “You’ve never been sloppy, man. I know you.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, for a long time. When Walker finally answered, Mueller could hear something odd in his voice. “I didn’t cause the wreck.”

“What?” He tried to stop the burst of laughter that wanted to rip free of his throat, at the thought that maybe it really had been an accident. For once in their entire fucked up lives, someone could have died entirely from natural causes. He hadn’t ever thought to ask. “So why the _fuck_ didn’t you ever say anything, you asshole?”

Silence. As soon as he asked the question, he knew the answer. “You thought Nicky did it. You’re fucking crazy, man. No way. Maybe it really was just an accident, in the rain.”

“It wasn’t an accident.” Something in Walker’s voice went dead. “Sheriff Mayhew told me that much, when he called to talk about it. Says there’s something I should know, especially now that Preventers are poking around. He wants to cut a new deal.”

“Fuck. Okay—so what to do you need me to do?”

“I need you to bring Nichol home.”

“He may not want to come home,” Mueller forced the words out between dry lips. “He’s been acting fucking weird lately, disappearing all the time. I talked to him when I first got back, but since then he’s been like the invisible man. I don’t know—“

“I need him to come home.”

“And the Preventer?”

“We need to find out what she knows. How close she is to Nicky. Tie up any loose ends.”

“No shit.” Mueller ran one hand over his face, trying to think. “Dammit. I liked this place too, but this changes everything.”

“I can’t let them hurt him, Mueller.” Walker’s voice shook, and Mueller could hear the hollow echo of grief and madness beneath the surface. “You understand that. Right?”

“Yeah, man. I know. Don’t worry. I’ll handle things. We’ll clean up things here and be home in a coupla days.”

“I need to talk to him, that’s all. And then everything will be like it was before.”

“I’ll get him to come home, dude. Trust me.” _One way or another._

* * *

Dorothy stared at her commanding officer in a state of shock. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that order?”

“It’s coming from the top of the food chain, Catalonia. You and your partners are to drop any part of this investigation that might tie into the death of Sylvia Noventa.”

“But…”

“Sir,” Heero put a hand on Dorothy’s arm in warning. “If there’s nothing to find, why would someone care about us asking questions about her death?”

Treize shrugged, and it’s the look in his eyes that gave the three team members the confirmation that he wouldn’t back them on this one; at least, not officially. “That’s not your concern. Your concern is to find out who is dealing Ice at Romefeller University. And also find out who raped Duo Maxwell.”

“And if it’s the same person that killed Sylvia Noventa?” Trowa spoke for the first time, head tilted back slightly as he stared thoughtfully at Treize from beneath shaggy bangs.

“Make sure your case against them is solid,” Treize finally offered, with a frown. “If you choose to disobey an official order from the Director, you’d better make damn sure you’re watching your own asses, because my hands will be tied. Are we clear?”

“Crystal, sir.”

“Good. Then get out of my office and do something constructive.” He waited until they were at the door, before adding quietly, “and be careful. Watch each other, and watch your backs. Something tells me this one is going to get messy.”

“Yes sir.”

* * *

“You promised, man.” Alex glared at his older brother. “You said I’d have dibs on the kid’s ass.”

“Things change, little brother.” Mueller didn’t bother to look up, just continued to shove the few essentials into his bag. They’d have to leave almost everything behind, since formally moving out two weeks before finals—and the same day that two other students went missing, would be more than just suspicious. 

“All that’s changed is that we aren’t waiting for Christmas break. We’re still taking Nichol home to face Walker, and we both know that’s not gonna end well. Especially since we’re taking his girlfriend with us too. What’s one more?” 

“He’s got a point there,” Otto muttered, most of his attention on the gun he was cleaning. “Six students vanishing from campus is no more unbelievable than five. And I wouldn’t mind another go at his ass either.” He smirked at Alex. “After you, of course.”

“Oh, for the love of—fine.” Mueller shook his head in defeat. “Whatever. If the opportunity arises, we’ll take Duo too.” Opening the desk drawer, he popped off the thin panel to the hidden cache. “Fuck!”

“What?” Two sets of eyes locked on him, as he straightened and started frantically tearing through the papers and debris on his desk.

“The CD’s gone.” Textbooks fell to the floor with a clatter, as he rifled through every loose object on the desk. “Alex, tell me you weren’t fucking around with it.”

“What? Oh, hell.” Alex caught on before Otto did, and the blood drained from his face. “The master?”

“Yes, the master. The one with you and Otto’s faces on it.”

“When’d you have it last?”

“Before Thanksgiving.” Mueller’s eyes narrowed. “Nichol.”

“But why would he take the CD? It’s not like he could go to the cops with it.” Alex frowned. 

“Actually,” Otto growled. “He could. His face isn’t on it, he’s unreasonably pissed about us fucking his roommate, and his girlfriend is a fucking Preventer. We’re screwed, man. We gotta go, like now.”

“Otto!” Mueller snapped, running one hand through his hair to calm himself down. “Shut up. He obviously hasn’t gone to the cops yet. That CD’s his only bargaining point; he won’t play his hand yet.”

“So what are we going to do?”

“Go finish packing.” 

“But—”

“Go, Alex. I just need to make a phone call.”

“You’re gonna call Walker?”

“No. Veronica Gale. Looks like you and Otto are gonna get your wish after all.” Mueller glanced back in exasperation as both men just stood and stared at him. “You two idiots haven’t noticed that Nichol’s been hard to pin down, even in a crowd? He’s gone ghost on us. We won’t be able to grab him now.”

”So—what are we going to do?”

“Convince him to come to us.”

* * *

Duo frowned, struggling to concentrate on the textbook in front of him and failing miserably. It felt weird to be in his own dorm room, after spending every waking hour not in class hiding out at Heero’s apartment, and he found himself jumping at every sound. He no longer felt like he belonged there, and even the few belongings he’d brought from the orphanage seemed alien and strange to him.

It didn’t help that in the three hours he’d been alone in the room, there’d been no sign of Nichol. In fact, he couldn’t really remember the last time he’d seen his roommate, but it had probably been before Thanksgiving. 

“Get a grip, Maxwell,” he muttered to himself, trying to force himself to focus on the book rather than wish he was back in the quiet, safe shelter of Heero’s apartment. And when the hell had that become his definition of safe, anyway? 

Still, he had to admit he’d felt safer there than he had in this room since-- since _the Incident_.

It’s one freaking night. Jesus. Shaking his head at his own twitchy nerves, he slammed the book closed and rested his forehead against the cover. One night without a babysitter, and he was a basket case. It was pathetic really. And it wasn’t like he was completely unprotected. Dorothy was in the lobby downstairs, pretending to study and keeping an eye out for both Nichol’s return and for any signs of Mueller and Alex. He had her cell phone on speed-dial, and they’d bugged the freaking room. She could be there in under two minutes, a fact she’d demonstrated just before Heero and Trowa vanished to do their drug-dealer thing.

So why was he feeling like the Sword of Damocles was positioned directly above his bed?

He groaned, rolling over on the narrow bed and throwing one arm over his eyes. Only to freeze as hyper-aware senses picked up the faint scratch at the door. Jerking upright with a yelp as the door slammed open, he found himself staring in shock as Otto stepped into the room, a gun in one hand.

“What the hell—?” He could feel time slowing around him, as his eyes locked onto the gun. “Are you insane?”

“Shut up, Maxwell.” That was Mueller, and it took Duo a few seconds to tear his eyes from Otto to look at the second man. “Looks like we have a little more business with you after all.”

“What?” No. God, no. Panic knifed through him, sparking barely remembered instincts from his past as a street kid. The textbook hit Otto in the chest, and he heard something impact the wall over his head as he rolled off the bed. 

Scrambling to his feet, he lunged for the bathroom they shared with Kevin and Paul. He was only halfway there when Otto tackled him. The impact with the floor drove his breath out of him, leaving him wheezing and gasping for air. 

He was only half aware of being dragged to his feet, something thin and plastic looped around his wrists as they were dragged behind him. He could hear someone shouting in the next room over, through the ringing in his ears, and then he blinked and they were in the stairwell across from his room.

He stumbled, shock and adrenaline ricocheting through his nerves until he wasn’t sure if he was going to fall or throw up. Whichever he did, he wondered if it would convince them to leave him behind.

“Preventers! Let him go.” Dorothy’s voice echoed in the stairwell, and he blinked until he could see her on the landing below them, gun out and trained on Otto.

“I don’t think so,” Mueller muttered, grinning a little as he dragged Duo back a step, a gun pressing painfully into his jaw. A door slammed open farther down the staircase, and he saw Dorothy’s head jerk down a split second before two gunshots rang out. 

Otto swore, already lunging down the stairs towards her, as Dorothy slowly crumpled against the wall. Duo blinked at the blood smeared across green paint, and then gasped as Mueller dragged him the rest of the way down the stairs in Otto’s wake. 

“Alex?”

“I’m okay.” 

“She still alive?” Mueller glanced at Otto as they reached the landing. Through his shock, Duo could see Dorothy blinking painfully, trying to twist away from Otto’s hands on her throat. Her gun lay just out of reach, at the top of the stairs.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Let’s go before anyone gets either brave or stupid enough to try and find out what the noise was.”

To Duo’s horror, Otto dragged Dorothy to her feet. She didn’t make a sound beyond a singled, pained groan, but he could see the fury in her eyes—along with the fear and agony.

No one entered the stairwell, though he could hear shouts from beyond the fire doors on each floor as they passed. Then cold night air was in his face.

He tried to struggle, to pull free as they were dragged to a van pulled close to the curb, but shock numbed his body and slowed his limbs. He heard Dorothy fighting behind him, but shortly after he was dumped on the floor of the vehicle, she landed against him in a wet, bloody heap; pinning him down and leaving him helplessly blind.

For the first time, he desperately wished for Heero’s presence.


	14. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't quite a full chapter, and flow-wise it didn't fit into the chapters on either side of it. So here you go, a bit of the story from Walker's POV. Chronologically speaking, it takes place during the middle of Chapter 13, a day or so before the very last scene. (You know, the one with the cliffhanger.)

The Morning After – Interlude

Walker paused at the top of the cracked marble staircase, staring pensively down into the dark hallway below. To his right, where the north wing should have stood, rotten tarps flapped in the wind and sunlight peeked through where the roof had collapsed. The south wing wasn’t in much better condition, ten years of neglect having taken its toll on what was left of the mansion, but he was even less concerned with it. There was nothing there to catch his interest.

He’d always liked the staircase though. It was, after all, where everything had started.

Despite the fact that it was almost noon and what little sunshine made it through grimy windows reflected off the polished white marble in painful glints, in his head it would always be midnight in this place. Relaxing into the memory, he let himself imagine the shadows at the bottom were the bloodstains left after his grandmother tumbled down the stairs. To one side, memory filled in Nichol’s presence; Sylvia at his back—a tiny golden shadow. She’d been so very small that night. At the base of the steps, Mueller and Alex stood on either side of the spilled shadow, their eyes wide with surprise.

He started down the staircase, letting his fingers smooth over the familiar banister. Once, Nicky had been small enough to slide down it, with Walker’s hands sure on his hips to steady him. But Nichol didn’t come home any more, had never liked it there once the old lady had died. His relief when the place had finally burned past rebuilding had only made Walker regret not doing it years earlier. Perhaps if he had done it sooner, things wouldn’t have gone wrong after.

Banging on the door dispersed the ghosts, and Walker scowled as he was left alone once more. His annoyance only grew when he yanked the front door open to see Sheriff Cabot standing on the wide porch.

“Afternoon, Randall.”

Walker ignored the hated name, though he allowed himself a brief fantasy of punching the man so hard his jaw snapped, and then slamming the door.

“Look, man. I really think you want to hear what I have to say, so let me in?”

Walker stared at him for a moment more, then stood back and let the shorter man push past him into the hallway. 

“Thanks.” There was an awkward silence then, before the sheriff glanced up at him. “So, haven’t seen you in town much lately.”

“Not much reason to go there,” Walker finally growled, since talking seemed to be the only way to speed things up a little. Eventually, he hoped, Cabot would get to the point and then go away. His presence needled under Walker’s skin, buzzing and twisting until he half imagined flies would erupt from his pores at any moment. It was almost as irritating as when his sister and parents had still been alive, crawling on the periphery of his life like scuttling roaches. “No one I want to visit there.”

“What if I told you Iria’s back in town?” 

That piqued his interest, but only for a moment. “That’s what you came all the way up here to tell me?”

“Nah. Just thought you might want to know. I remembered you guys used to have a thing,” Cabot shrugged, looking uneasy finally. Walker found himself a little surprised that it had taken so long. Normally the man didn’t even bother to meet him face to face, or attempt small talk. “I don’t suppose you have any beer up here, huh?”

He didn’t bother to answer, just led the way into what was left of the kitchen and pulled a beer out of the cabinet. The Sheriff scowled down at the dusty, room temperature bottle, but wisely decided not to protest as Walker brushed past him, heading deeper into the south wing. Finding a small sitting room that still held the rotting remnants of furniture, Walker nodded at a sheet covered sofa. 

“Uh…thanks. Love what you’ve done to the place.” 

“Why did you come here?” Walker asked impatiently.

“Because I’d like to think of us as friends, Randall,” Cabot sighed, “and because I know you and your brother took Sylvia Noventa’s death hard.” He hesitated, flinching a little as Walker’s eyes locked onto him. “And I know you heard that there were Preventer agents in town, asking about the accident.”

Walker waited, forcing himself to be patient. 

“Hell, son. I’m also the law. I may let you boys slide on account of mutual business, but I don’t want to see things getting stirred up again, and people getting hurt.”

“I’ve kept to my side of the deal, and stayed out of town.” Walker shook his head, leaning against a wall that looked as if a strong wind would bring it down. “So if Preventers are asking questions, looks like you’re the one with the most to lose.”

“Yeah well— let’s just say I’d like a little insurance on the fact that they won’t hear anything too—damaging.”

“You want to buy my silence.”

“That was the general idea, yeah.”

“Huh. I find it oddly disturbing that you think I’d willingly talk to a Preventer about anything, but now I’m curious.”

“About what?”

“What you think you can offer me for my silence on exactly where some of the bodies are buried in this town.”

“Sylvia Noventa.”

“Syl is dead,” Walker hissed, his voice flattening out in a warning that Cabot didn’t seem to hear.

“If she is, she wasn’t killed in the accident.”

The buzzing under his skin flared, then faded into silence as he stared at the sheriff. “What?”

“I just found out myself. You know I was out of town when the accident happened, fishing up in the Poconos that weekend with Lou. Still, I smoothed things over when I got back, just like you asked.”

“How can she be alive?”

“You know her grandfather? Marshall Noventa?” At Walker’s nod, the sheriff took another swig of beer. “He’s apparently so high up in the Preventer chain of command that he’s gotta breathe through a mask and tank. Ironic, then, that I only found out because of that Preventer, Barton, poking around asking questions at the station. One of my boys started acting real nervous, and when I pinned him down, the story came out. Turns out the body they pulled out of that car with your brother, wasn’t Sylvia. Don’t know who it was, but she’d been dead for a coupla days. Bodies weren’t even in the fucking ambulance before the scene was so full of Preventers you couldn’t move, and they were laying down the law about talking. Everybody clammed up, and I didn’t even have a clue.”

“Nichol…”

“The old man musta pulled a lot of strings, made some damned deal with the devil to get his grand-daughter in the Witness Relocation Program, and fake her death like that. And Nichol’s damn lucky they didn’t just let him die in the accident, too.”

“Nichol’s always been lucky.” Walker muttered, as the buzz beneath his skin started back up with a vengeance. “Where is she?”

“That I don’t know. But I figure Mueller’s good with computers. He could probably find out where they’re hiding her and the baby. Figured you and Nichol deserve to know that, it being his kid and all.”

“Right.” Walker turned away from the sheriff, his mind spinning at the implication that Sylvia was alive. “Who else knows this?”

“Just Gordon, but he’s too damn scared to tell anyone else. I had to half beat it out of him myself.”

“Does he know why you wanted the information?”

“Fuck no. Like I’m going to tell that fool I was coming up here to talk to you. No one knows.” There was another awkward pause. “So’s that square us? You’ll hold your tongue if the Preventers come nosing around again, and no trouble in town?”

“You know what the simplest way to keep a secret is?” Walker asked quietly, his back still to Cabot. He could barely hear the answer over the buzzing in his ears. It took all his will not to curl on the floor and cover his head, trying to block it out. But that would be weak, would be giving in. Letting Nichol down, now that he knew how to fix all the things that had gone wrong.

“Don’t let anyone know you’ve got one?”

“Something like that.” 

When he turned, the sheriff was just tipping the bottle up to swallow the last dregs of beer. The sound of the gunshot masked the clink of broken glass on the hard floor, but not the thud of the body hitting a moment later. After that there was only blissful silence, the buzzing having died with the sheriff. “Don’t worry, Syl. It’s gonna be okay now. We’ll find you, and bring you home. And then Nicky will come home again. Everything can be just like it was before…you’ll see.”

He smiled for the first time in months. “Just a few more loose ends to tie up, that’s all. A few more bodies to bury.” Walker stepped over the sprawled corpse on his way back to the stairs. “And thanks to the sheriff, I know all the places to bury them where no one will ever think to look.”


	15. Chapter 15

In the end, the drug bust was surprisingly anti-climatic. 

At least, as far as Heero could tell through the unease and impatience to just get it over with and get back to Duo and Dorothy. He could read the same distraction on Trowa’s face, as they left Veronica Gale and her associates in the competent hands of the arresting agents and headed for the street where they’d left the two motorcycles earlier.

They didn’t quite make it to the door.

Both agents stopped as Treize Khushrenada stepped into the warehouse, his blue eyes grim; Heero felt his stomach twist, and forced down the nausea suddenly choking him. 

“Sir?” Trowa asked softly, one hand already dropping onto Heero’s shoulder from behind. “What’s wrong?” 

There could only be two possible explanations for Treize’s presence in the field, and the bust itself had gone as smoothly as anyone could have asked. Which meant it was far more likely something had gone wrong at Romefeller, with either Dorothy or Duo.

“Yuy— Heero. Trowa.” Treize twitched, as if he intended to put a hand on Heero’s shoulder and thought better of it at the last moment, but the look in his eyes was not helping Heero’s state of mind. The fact that he was obviously searching for words was not lost on either of them, and Heero felt Trowa tensing at his side before he heard the low growl from his own throat.

“What happened?”

“We don’t know yet,” Treize sighed. “But there was an incident in the dorm. Gunfire. Merquise’s team is working the scene now.”

“Duo— Dorothy. Are they—?” It was as close as he could bring himself, to asking if they were still alive.

“We don’t know.” 

“What?” 

“The altercation started in Duo Maxwell’s dorm room, not long after you and Trowa reached the warehouse.”

“So is he…?”

“We don’t know. They’re both missing,” Treize sighed, rubbing one hand over his eyes wearily. “Witnesses heard sounds of a struggle in Duo’s room, then gunfire in the stairwell. We’ve found blood, but no bodies. No one saw anything.”

“Nichol? Mueller?” Trowa asked grimly, his voice tight. Heero was grateful that his normally quiet partner had found his voice, because all he could force out at the moment was the growl. Not to mention, it was taking all of his focus not to deck his commanding officer and speech had fallen by the wayside early in that battle.

“Chang and Noin are looking.”

“Sonovabitch.” Trowa spun away, heading for the bikes; Heero shoved away the fog of shock and started after him silently.

“Barton.” Treize’s voice hovered somewhere between empathy and steel, and they both froze. “Yuy. Merquise and his team will find them.”

“Zechs couldn’t find his own ass with both hands,” Trowa snarled. “They could be dead for all we know.”

“If they were dead, there would have been no reason to take the bodies. We’ll find them, even if it takes tearing the damned city apart. I want you and Yuy to stay out of the way, is that understood?”

Green eyes met blue, as understanding flashed through both partners as one. Heero’s vision began to strobe in sync with his pulse, as cold fury washed over him at the thought of being sidelined.

“Is this another order from the top of the food chain?” Heero swung a leg over his bike, before turning his head to stare at Treize. “Sir?”

“No.” The barest hint of a smile crossed Treize’s face. “As far as I’m concerned… this has nothing to do with Sylvia Noventa. Whoever did this was stupid enough to touch one of my agents, and at the moment, I don’t give a damn about what else they might have done a year ago. However, I have two teams covering the ground at Romefeller, you two just came from a bust, and your partner is missing. Officially, I have no choice but to put you two in protective custody, at least for tonight. ”

“You’re fucking insane, if you think…”

“Tro.” Heero stared at Treize, the pieces slowly falling into place through the haze of fear and rage. Trowa fell silent again with a glower, though Heero could feel the pain coming off him in waves at the knowledge that one of the three people in the world that Trowa gave a damn about might be dying while he was helpless. “Can we at least go home and change first?”

Treize’s smile grew a little colder. “You have two hours, and then I expect you to report to headquarters.”

“Yes sir.” 

“Heero…” Trowa stared at him, trust and betrayal warring on his face as Heero kicked his bike into roaring life. 

“Let’s go.”

“You boys be careful. Watch your backs.” 

***

“I’m not going to just sit around Headquarters and wait for Merquise to bring her body back,” Trowa snarled, throwing his helmet across Heero’s living room. “Heero…”

“Stand down for a minute,” Heero’s voice softened, though it was all he could do to keep his own fear in check. Treize had mentioned blood, and he wasn’t even sure at this point whose blood he was most afraid it would turn out to be. “Trust me. There is no way even Treize expects that. He was just covering his ass if this all blows sideways. He’s given us two hours to fall under the radar before he _has_ to take us into custody. We need to figure out where they’ll take Duo and Dorothy and be well on our way by then. You with me?”

“I… yeah,” Trowa nodded, but didn’t relax any. “I’m with you.”

“Good. We’ll find them, I promise.”

“Heero, it’s a three hour drive to Northfork— if they’re injured, or if we’re guessing wrong about who has them and where they’re heading—”

“It’s only three hours if someone else is driving. Gear up. In the meantime, I’ll see if I can figure out where they might take them.”

“Actually—I can help you with that.” They both looked back at the doorway to see Nichol leaning against the frame, his hands empty and out at his sides in plain sight. “I know where they’ll go in Northfork, and I can get you inside unseen.”

Both Preventers moved as one, guns out and leveled before they’d even fully turned. Nichol didn’t move, just watched them both evenly, a half smile twisting his lips. 

“Why would you help us?” Heero’s eyes narrowed at Nichol. “They’re your friends. Why on earth should we trust you to lead us to them?”

“Because Duo is an innocent bystander who got assigned the wrong roommate, Dorothy is your partner, and as Preventers, it’s your duty to stop this shit.” Nichol shrugged. “And they aren’t my friends. Family is closer to the truth, but I learned young that family ties don’t mean shit.”

“How long have you known she was a Preventer?” Trowa growled. “And do they?”

“All along, and yes.” He tilted his head to watch them curiously. “So do you want my help or not?”

“You’re a civilian. And a suspect. We can’t…”

“They already have an hour and a half head start on you,” Nichol smiled thinly, and Heero was startled by the first evidence of actual emotion he’d ever seen on the younger man’s face. “And before you ask, yes it’s a trap. But the trap is for me, not you. None of this is about you. So if you two could make up your minds quickly, I’d appreciate the backup when I walk into it.”

“It will take time to mobilize…”

“If you call for backup, Walker will see them coming and kill Dorothy and probably Duo as well. Besides, I’m not waiting for anyone else. You two can come with me if you want to save your partner’s life, or you can call for help and she’ll die while you try to figure out where the hell they’ve taken her.”

“How do we know she’s not dead already?”

“He’ll wait. He’ll want to be sure I’m coming. If he kills her too quickly, he knows I won’t come back.”

“And Duo?”

“Duo’s got better odds, if only because Alex wants him,” Nichol grimaced. “I doubt he’ll appreciate that fact though.”

Heero’s stomach twisted. He forced down the nausea only because there wasn’t time to  
give in to it, wasn’t time for shock or grief or anger. There was only time to grab guns and keys, and follow Nichol into the dark.

***

Iria stepped into the front hall, not bothering for stealth as she shut the door behind her. Stealth was for people with a death wish, and she was not quite crazy enough to sneak up on Walker—even if standing uninvited in the front foyer of the Anders’ Estate at 11 pm was proof that she and sanity weren’t on speaking terms at the moment.

“Walker?” Frowning, she strained to hear anything in the darkness beyond creaking wood and wind. 

“I didn’t think you were coming.” 

She startled as he emerged from the shadows to her right.

“I said I’d try, didn’t I?” Iria forced a smile, relaxing only when he moved out of the darkness and lit a kerosene lamp resting on the marble steps. “It just took longer to ditch my father’s guard dogs than I thought it would.”

“Such a rebel.” He smiled faintly as she took the lamp from his hands and set it on the newel post, then wrapped herself around him. “Defying your father to spend time with the resident bad boy?” When she didn’t answer, he tipped her head back and kissed her. “Shouldn’t you have gotten that out of your system when we were in high school?”

“What can I say? It still pisses him off, so why stop now?”

“I missed you. I hoped to see you before…”

“Before what?” Iria frowned when he didn’t answer. “Walker? What’s going on?”

“Nothing, baby,” he whispered as he kissed her again. “Everything is going to be fine, now.”

“Of course it is,” she agreed, pushing him back. “You have any beer up here? I thought you’d be at the apartment, so I didn’t bring any supplies with me. I only headed up here when I realized you weren’t likely to show up there.”

“In the kitchen.” 

She was halfway to the doorway, when she realized he was still standing in the foyer, staring distractedly up at the top of the stairs. “Walker?”

“Your father likely to think to look here for you?”

“He left on a business trip this morning, and Rashid thinks I’m spending a last night out with the girls, watching chick flick movies and eating ice cream before I head back to the Clinic in Baltimore on Saturday. No one’s going to come looking for me tonight.”

“Good.”

“Walker, what’s going on? You’re scaring me.”

“Don’t be scared, Ree. I told you—everything’s going to be fine. Nicky’s coming home, and I have a surprise for both of you.”

“A surprise?” She forced the nervousness out of her voice with an effort. “What kind of surprise?”

“You’ll see.” He turned away from the door to look at her, and at the moment all she could see in shadowed eyes was a genuine pleasure at her presence. “Get your beer, and then come upstairs.”

“You want a bottle?”

“I’m good.” 

The kitchen was dark, little moonlight getting past the trees to shine in the wide windows. There was another lantern on the table, where she’d expected to find it, and she quickly lit it. It had taken her a long time to get used to Walker’s refusal to use flashlights, but over the years, she’d gotten used to padding through the silent wreckage of the house in the dark, or only using one of the lanterns.

Grabbing a beer from the ice-chest, she listened until she heard the sound of footsteps over her head before picking up the lantern and heading for the back stairs into the remaining wing of the mansion. The front staircase had always given her the creeps, but she liked the tiny staircase tucked in among the closets and rooms at the back of the house. 

As she passed the sitting room she and Syl had set aside as their space in the derelict house, she couldn’t help glancing inside. To her surprise, the furniture was bare of the usual drop cloths, leaving the moth-eaten upholstery visible for the first time in several years. The room reeked of mildew and copper-tinged decay, and she held her breath as she stepped through the doorway and walked farther into the room.

In her head, she could see Syl perched on the back of one of the wingbacks, bottle of beer in one hand as she grinned over her shoulder at Nichol in unfeigned, innocent happiness. There hadn’t been many of those moments, where any of them could be considered truly innocent. 

Lost in the memory, she didn’t see the bundle of blood-soaked sheets on the floor until she tripped over it, the bottle of beer falling from her hand as she caught her balance against the chair.

“Ree?” The voice broke through her shock, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away. She’d spent too many years working to be a doctor, not to realize what she was looking at—but the unexpected sight of blood so closely after thinking of Syl still left her reeling. 

“Who?” It was the only question she could think to ask, as Walker’s arms slipped around her waist and he pulled her back against his chest. “Is that… Sheriff Cabot?”

“I didn’t mean for you to see that, baby.” He turned her around and hugged her, his lips brushing her forehead. “If I’d known you were coming here, I would have taken out this trash yesterday.”

“God, you killed the Sheriff?” 

“I had to, Ree,” he whispered into her hair. “But it’s going to be okay, baby. You’ll see. Come upstairs.”

She let him tug her out of the room, but balked at the stairs. “I—I dropped my beer.”

He sighed and let go of her, one hand stroking her pale face worriedly. “I’ll get you another, and then you can rest for a little while, okay?”

“How could you just leave him there?” She finally choked out, trailing behind him as he headed back for the kitchen.

“It won’t matter in a few hours, Iria,” he said, his back to her as he opened the ice chest again, this time pulling out several bottles of beer. “I promise.”

“Okay.” She swallowed hard, forcing down the fear and pulling her hand off the moldering knife block on the counter; he turned back to her, holding out a beer in one hand, and she reached for that with barely trembling fingers. “I’m okay. I trust you.”

** *

Duo braced himself uncomfortably, feeling Dorothy shiver against him as the van rocked and they both slid sideways on the bare floor. He could barely feel his hands and feet, his fingers swollen and numb from the tight zip ties holding them behind his back. He didn’t even want to think about how painful that had to be for Dorothy, with the bullet wound high on her left arm still oozing sluggishly through the bandage Otto had reluctantly wrapped around it. She might no longer be on the verge of bleeding out, but that was about the only plus he could see about their situation.

He had no real idea how long they’d been driving, or where they were. The rear windows of the van were blacked out, and he could only catch the occasional glimpse of headlights passing in sporadic bursts through the windshield. They had to be in the mountains by now, though; each sharp turn or tilt of the van sent the two of them rolling against each other on an increasingly sharp incline. 

“Duo?” Dorothy’s voice was little more than a hoarse whisper in his ear, and he turned his head to meet glazed blue eyes. “You hurt?”

“Headache,” he muttered back. “Bruises. Otto tackles like a linebacker.”

“Bleeding?”

“Split lip.” 

“Shut the hell up, bitch.” Alex kicked Dorothy’s leg, scowling viciously. 

“What… what’s going on?” Duo forced his voice steady with an effort, hoping to take Alex’s attention off Dorothy. “Where are you taking us?”

“She knows, don’t you babe? You just had to go asking questions and stirring up shit, didn’t you?” He laughed. “Not gonna do you any good, though.”

“Leave them be, Alex,” Mueller glanced over his shoulder with a distracted frown. “You already did enough damage. Or did you forget the request was for them to arrive intact?”

“He’s gonna kill her anyway, what difference does it make? I’m just having a little fun.”

“This isn’t a game, you moron.” Mueller turned back to point out a turn to Otto, and a moment later both prisoners were sent tumbling across the floor as the van changed direction sharply. “If we’re lucky, it’ll take a little time for her partners to figure out that the meeting with Veronica was a setup to get them out of the way. But once they do, half the Preventers in the state are gonna be heading for Northfork. We need to get there, let Walker ask his questions, pack the shit up, and get the hell out before they arrive.”

“I didn’t sign on with you assholes to run from the cops the rest of my life,” Otto muttered. “This is fucked up, Mueller. I thought you said this Walker guy was smart? We should have just killed the bitch, grabbed the kid and the goods and headed for Mexico. Coulda met up with him there, instead of driving straight to the one place they’ll think to look for us.”

“You didn’t sign on to do the heavy thinking, either. Walker’ll have a plan, and we’ll be fine. You’ll see. But for now, shut up and drive.”

***

No one spoke until they hit the city limits; once on the open highway, Heero punched the gas and headed west for Northfork.

“You’re absolutely sure they’ll head for Northfork?”

“Yeah.” Nichol shifted in the backseat with a weary sigh. “Trust me.”

“And why the hell should we do that?” Trowa growled as he fiddled with the monitor for the tracking device on Dorothy. Duo’s jacket was back at the dorm, which meant that if the two weren’t together, the odds of finding him had gone down significantly. “You still haven’t explained why you’d turn on your friends. Or why, if you knew this was coming, you didn’t try to stop it.”

“I don’t want to die. And I don’t want Dorothy or Duo to die either. Doesn’t look like too many other options are left.” Nichol leaned forward, and his voice dropped to a raw whisper. “Look. I love my brother. I do. But he— he’s not—. This has to end.”

“Your brother is a psychopath. How can you possibly love him?”

“He’s still my brother, and the only damn family I have left. He’s protected me my whole life. He’d do anything to keep me safe.”

“Including kill?”

Nichol hesitated, his gazed fixed somewhere beyond the window. “Yes.”

“Okay, ignoring for the moment, the question of what exactly he thinks you need saving from— did he kill your grandmother? Your parents and sister?”

“Yes.”

“And it never occurred to you to worry that he might kill you too? Maybe tell someone?”

Nichol met Trowa’s eyes, his own bleak. “Look. I’m not an idiot, okay? I know Walker, better than anyone, and I know how impulsive he can be. And how dangerous,” he sighed. “Why do you think I tried so hard to distance myself from Dorothy, and from Duo? I didn’t want to be responsible for— for anyone else’s death. Not,” his voice shook then, “not after losing Syl and the baby. As for my own life, I really don’t give a fuck anymore. I just want it to finally be over.”

“You selfish sonovabitch, why didn’t you try a little fucking harder? Or hey, since you knew she was a Preventer, fucking warn her what she was walking into?”

“Trowa,” Heero said quietly, silencing Trowa before he could say more. “Shut up. What’s done is done. And pissing off the one person who can help us find them before Walker kills them, won’t help.”

“He won’t do anything to them right away, though I can’t say the same for Mueller,” Nichol shrugged. “And Iria will buy us as much time as she can. But I would suggest you stop interrogating me, and just concentrate on getting us there, as fast as you can.”

“Iria?”

“Winner. She’s at the mansion by now, and she’s a trained medic, working her way through residency. If they’re injured, she’ll do what she can to patch them up— and keep Walker from doing anything rash for as long as she can. Mueller, Alex and Otto, though, are a whole different story. If Mueller triggers Walker, there’s not going to be anything she can do to stop it.”

“Fuck,” Heero groaned, as he carefully increased his speed on the dark highway. “More civilians in the line of fire. This is going to get messy.”

Behind him, he thought he heard Nichol mutter, “You have no idea.”

***

The van stopped abruptly, and Duo heard Dorothy cry out as they both slammed into the wheel well. 

“This is it?” Otto scowled out the front window, utter betrayal in his voice. “This is the drug lab you guys have been telling me about? It’s a wreck, man. There’s not even any power.”

Mueller rolled his eyes. “Only a moron would run an Ice lab out of someplace that looks like an Ice lab on TV. There’s a generator in the basement.” Shaking his head, he shoved open the door. “Bring them, and let’s get this over with.”

Alex grabbed Duo’s ankles, dragging him bodily to the open door, then cut the zip-tie free as Otto twisted around from the front seat to cover both prisoners with the gun. Grimacing in pain as the blood rushed back into his feet, Duo warily eyed the gun as he was hauled out. 

Looking around him in the darkness, he got the vague impression of trees all around. He couldn’t see any lights to indicate houses nearby, even when he was hauled roughly toward a hulking derelict mansion. 

“Don’t get any bright ideas about running,” Mueller growled, as he caught Duo’s bound arms and pulled him the rest of the way. “We’re far enough out that no one will hear either of you if you scream, and there’s nowhere in these woods we can’t find you. Even in the dark.”

Duo didn’t bother responding, though he heard Dorothy swearing behind him as she was dragged out of the van. Leaving Alex and Otto to manhandle the two prisoners, Mueller headed for the front door.

The door opened, and light from a kerosene lantern spilled out past the dark silhouette of the man blocking it. Cold eyes raked over Duo, and then Dorothy, before the man stepped back. “You brought the roommate too? Where’s Nichol?”

“Nichol was… out of reach.” Mueller shrugged. “He’ll come though, don’t worry.”

“What have you done, Mueller?”

“Just a little insurance, Walker. I know what I’m doing, okay? You can ask her all the questions you want, Nichol will come to get them back, and you guys can patch things up.”

“And I have to get rid of two bodies instead of one?”

“Nah,” Mueller shook his head with a wry grin, “Alex and Otto have plans for the kid, so only one.” 

The casual statement was accompanied by Alex’s hands tightening on Duo’s arms, and dragging him up the driveway to the steps, even as his stomach twisted. It wasn’t taking any stretch of imagination at all to put the pieces together and come up with who had been behind his assault, and the admission that he wasn’t marked for death at the moment because they wanted a second round was less than reassuring. 

“You psychotic son’s-of-bitches—“ Dorothy growled, only to break off as Otto hit her and she reeled against Duo. He tried to lend as much support as he could with his hands still trapped behind his back. “You’re all insane. And beyond fucked in the head if you think I’m answering any of your questions or letting you touch him again.” A second blow, and she was on her knees against his legs, her breathing suddenly sounding wet and choked.

“Walker?” A woman’s voice echoed down the stairs, and Duo’s head snapped up to see a slender blonde halfway down the marble staircase. “What’s going on? Who are…?”

“You picked a bad night to get laid, Iria,” Alex muttered. “A really bad night.”

“Shut up, Alex.” Walker glanced up the stairs. “Go back to bed, Ree. This won’t take long. You don’t need to see this.”

“Jesus, they’re both bleeding.” Iria frowned as she reached the bottom of the steps and got a better look at Duo and Dorothy. “You, thug-boy, take her through there to the den, and I’ll get my kit.” She gestured at the doorway to the back of the hall, leading into what looked like a slightly more intact room. 

“The bitch doesn’t need patching up,” Otto growled, looking pissed at being nicknamed Thug-boy by a girl half his size. “She needs a bullet to the back of the head. And I don’t recall anyone mentioning you, babe, and that I’d be taking orders from you.”

Iria turned to eye Walker, one brow arched questioningly. “If you really intend to ask her anything, it’s going to be hard to do with her either unconscious or dead.”

“Do what she says,” Walker said calmly, and Mueller shoved Otto in rough agreement. 

Duo found himself stumbling with them into the depths of the house, to a dark room with furniture shrouded with dust and no windows. Two more kerosene lamps were lit, along with a number of candles on a cracked mantle. The dim, flickering light made his head spin, and he could tell Dorothy was upright only because of Otto’s grip on her arms. He still had no fucking idea what the hell was going on. Not for the first time, he found himself hoping that somehow, Heero would know to come looking for them. “Patch them up, baby, and then I want you to go back upstairs. You don’t need to be involved in this.”

“Thanks, but it’s a little late. I’m in this as much as you guys are, just like Syl.” Her voice was soft, troubled, as they followed. “Do you have to kill her? We can just go, leave them here and go. The whole world is out there waiting, why do you have to keep doing this?”

“I have to, baby. Just a few more, and everything will be fine.”

“God…”

“Don’t be scared, Ree. I would never hurt you, you know this, right?” His voice softened, too much for Duo to hear what else he said. A moment later, murmured agreement from the woman dashed the last of Duo’s remaining hopes of her helping them. 

They were on their own. And going to die if they couldn’t get out of this quickly.

***

Dorothy woke up on a dust shrouded couch, fighting nausea and weakness from being shot. Shock was starting to set in, she could recognize the signs. Turning her head, she tried to keep Duo in sight. Not that there was much she could do, in her condition and with her hands bound behind her, but she’d promised Heero she’d protect the kid and she’d do it with her life if she had to. She just had to find him first. And get up.

Iria knelt beside the couch, her blue eyes troubled as she cleaned blood from around the bullet wound. Her hands, though, were steady and efficient as she dealt with the injury. The competence in her hands made it more jarring for Dorothy to realize the other woman was barely a year older than Dorothy was herself.

“The bullet’s out,” she said softly, as Dorothy gasped and tried to pull away from the pain. “No lasting damage, as long as you don’t reopen the wound. Try not to struggle.”

“If you think I’m going to just lie here and let them shoot me in the head— you’re more insane than he is,” Dorothy muttered, wishing her voice didn’t sound so weak and hollow from pain. “I suspect— _that_ — will cause lasting damage.”

Iria’s lips quirked into a rueful grimace, even as she began bandaging Dorothy’s arm. “No doubt. If I were you, I’d consider answering his questions as much as you can.” She sat back on her heels, and then began preparing a syringe.

“What’s that?” Dorothy tried to sit up, but loss of blood had left her too dizzy and weak. 

“For the pain.” Iria turned the bottle enough for her to read the label in the dim lantern light; Dorothy blinked in confusion when she recognized the name of an antibiotic, rather than a painkiller. “It’ll help you concentrate on whatever it is Walker wants you to tell him.”

“What the fuck is taking so long?” Alex asked, leaning over the back of the couch. “We’re under a little bit of a time limit, Iria.” 

Iria dropped the bottle into her kit, then glared up at him. “Then maybe you should have thought of that before you idiots shot her.”

“Alex, back off,” Mueller growled, glancing up from where he was huddled with Walker. “Why don’t you and Otto make yourselves useful downstairs? And keep an eye out for Nichol.”

“What about them?” Otto gestured with the gun at Duo and Dorothy. 

“They’re tied up, and I think Walker and I are more than capable of keeping them in line. Go, Alex.”

“No. Don’t go downstairs. I’ve already cleared the basement lab.” Walker glanced over with a distracted frown. “Open the garage and load what’s there.” For some reason, Iria stiffened when he said that, and started to reach for the lantern before aborting the move. Dorothy blinked at her through the waves of pain and the dizziness, but couldn’t focus enough to figure out what that meant.

With a last cuff to the back of Dorothy’s head, Alex straightened with a scowl. She was tempted to spit at him as he slouched around the couch, but their odds were better with only Iria, Mueller and Walker in the room. 

“How much longer, baby?”

“Few more minutes.” Iria met Dorothy’s eyes, as she pressed the plunger on the syringe, and the contents burned their way into her arm. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, too quietly for the men to hear. “Help is coming, you just have to hold on.” 

Dorothy forced her expression not to reflect her shock, and the other woman smiled faintly before moving away to Duo’s side. Closing her eyes, she sank back into the filthy sheet on the couch, and let the pain and exhaustion take over her brain.

“Okay, bitch. Time to answer a few questions.” Mueller’s voice dragged her out of the haze of near unconsciousness, and she scowled up at him defiantly.

“Bite me, asshole.”

“Mueller.” Walker put a hand on his shoulder, while staring down at her curiously. She felt like a particularly interesting bug under his flat gaze. “Keep an eye on the boy.”

“Sure, dude. Just, can we speed it up a little? It’s not gonna take forever for her partners to figure out where we’ve run too. And Nichol will have headed straight here.”

“Partners?” Iria asked, her voice tense. 

“She’s a Preventer,” Mueller laughed. “It’s why she’s gotta die once we’re done here.”

“Walker, no! If you kill a Preventer…”

“Shhh, Ree.” Dorothy shuddered as Walker sat down on the couch next to her, one hand stroking her sweatsoaked hair back from her face. “The fact that she’s a Preventer is why she’s still alive. But I can’t let her go, if for no other reason than she’s seen you. I won’t let you be drawn into this more than you are, baby.”

Dorothy winced, as his hand slipped back down her cheek to her throat, and couldn’t keep herself from squirming upright on the couch to get away. “Don’t touch me, you freak.”

“It’s a pity, really.” He smiled down at her, though he didn’t let her move away. “I can see why Nichol let you hang around. You’re very pretty, and blonde just like Syl.”

“Yeah? And I can see why he doesn’t want to come home to you—agh!” His hand closed around her bandaged arm, stopping her backward retreat and leaving her panting with pain as the room swirled into darkness around her.

“Dorothy?” Duo’s voice broke through the haze, dragging her back from the enveloping refuge of unconsciousness. “Let her go, dammit!”

“You shut up, kid,” Mueller growled. “I’d hate to have to disappoint my brother, but I’m not averse to letting you share her fate.”

“Fuck you all! Dorothy…” 

She heard a blow land behind her, and Duo cried out before falling silent. Dorothy forced her eyes open and glared up at Walker, spitting in his face; rather than looking angry, he wiped it away with an amused sigh. 

“Don’t bother, sweetheart,” Walker mused while his free hand tangled in Dorothy’s hair, tugging her head back painfully. “The only way you get to die quick is if you answer my question. Pissing me off will only make me enjoy tearing you apart that much more.”

“Yeah? Well, that sucks for me, huh?” She forced the words out between gritted teeth, as his fingers tightened around both her hair and the hole in her shoulder. “Cause so far, I haven’t heard you asking me anything.”

He laughed. “So defiant… killing you is going to be almost a pity. Where are you hiding Sylvia Noventa?”

It took her a few seconds for the question to work its way past the pain, and she stared up at him in shocked confusion for a long moment. When she finally managed to force out a word past the shock, it was echoed by both Iria and Mueller.

“What?”

***

“There’s a turnaround just around the next bend. Pull in there,” Nichol muttered, leaning forward between the seats to point over Heero’s shoulder. 

“Why?” 

“’Cause if we go any further up the mountain, they’ll see the headlights.” 

Heero considered the narrow, steep road with a shudder. He could imagine only too well how Sylvia Noventa’s car had slipped over the edge when it was raining. Turning the headlights off was not an option. “How far is it on foot?”

“There’s actually a path, so maybe ten minutes.” 

His skin itched with the knowledge of how close they were, even as he eased the car into the turn around and killed the engine. He could only hope that Nichol was right, and that Duo and Dorothy were still alive. 

“Where’s the path let out?” Trowa asked, as he tucked two throwing knives from the trunk into his sleeve and a second gun into his black Kevlar jacket. 

“It’ll bring you out behind the garage, which is the only part of the old wing still standing after the fire.” 

“Anyone else likely to be there, besides Walker and this Iria?” Heero started to arm himself in turn.

“Just Mueller, Alex and Otto. No one else is crazy enough to come up here at night.”

“You said this is a trap for you,” Heero glanced at Trowa, and saw the same thought written on his face. “Where will they be in the house?”

“I don’t know… probably in either the front living room or the den in back. The rest of the downstairs, apart from the kitchen, is pretty much uninhabitable.”

“How do we get into the house unseen?”

“I’m going too…” Nichol growled, his eyes widening. 

 

“No, you aren’t,” Heero shook his head, and then pulled out a satellite phone from the trunk. “Okay, ten minutes to get up to the house, another ten to look around and get the lay of the land. You don’t hear anything from us in forty, you hit one on this and ask for Treize.”

“But…”

“Bad enough we have two civilians and at least four suspects up there as it is.” 

Nichol looked like he wanted to protest, but Heero cut it off. “We’re wasting time arguing. You’re waiting here.”

“Fine. Just…” he swallowed hard, “make sure Iria gets out okay?”

Heero nodded curtly. 

“Go in the back, nearest the garage, but be careful. What’s left of the wing damaged in the fire is pretty unstable. There’s a door though, down into the basement. If they aren’t in the basement, where the lab is, there’s a second set of steps that’ll take you up into the front hall, under the main staircase. From there— I’m not sure where they’ll be.” 

Heero nodded one last time, and then he and Trowa headed for the mostly hidden path up the mountain. They didn’t dare use flashlights, but to his relief the path was paved with flagstones forming a crude staircase up through the heavy undergrowth. It curved around the side of the mountain, just enough that they were coming up to one side, rather than straight up along the road as it zigzagged up the steep slope. The car was lost to sight within minutes.

There was nothing but the crumbling steps, and the dark looming forest around them, for what seemed to take far too long. Heero checked his watch in the dark, and realized with a shock that only eight minutes had passed since they left the turnaround. They had to be getting close to the top. 

The sound of voices above them had both he and Trowa flattening into the unseen bushes around them. 

“This is bullshit, man.” Glancing at Trowa, he saw his partner mouth the name Otto. “I didn’t sign on to do nothing but haul shit out of a burned out mansion.”

“What the fuck were you expecting? Jesus, if I’d known back when we started rooming together, what a whiner you were, I never would have asked Mueller to let you in on this.”

Heero glanced back at Trowa, and prayed the other man could see his hand signals in the dark. There was still no light, but from the voices they were only yards from the top of the cliff. Then both of them were moving silently up the path.

Fortunately, Nichol had been telling the truth when he said they’d come out behind the garage, and they had the dilapidated bulk between them and Otto and Alex. Trowa ghosted off to the right, as Heero plastered himself to the wall and crept around to his left. A quick glance through a narrow window set high in the wall showed him the two men shoving plastic Rubbermaid containers into the back of a white cargo van.  
“Fuck you, dude.”

“Shut up, Otto… hey. You hear a car?” 

Flattening against the garage again, Heero swore silently as the sound of a very familiar engine cut through the night, followed a moment later by the flash of headlights on the road one turn below. 

“Think that’s Nicky?” Alex muttered, putting down the container he was holding and stepping out onto the driveway. 

“I dunno, this Walker guy got any other girlfriends gonna be showing up unexpectedly?”

“No.” Alex frowned, and then stared towards the front of the house. “Keep loading, I’m gonna check it out.”

“Sure…whatever, dude.” 

A moment later, Heero’s car slipped into the curved driveway in front of the mansion, and Nichol got out. Considering the keys were still tucked into his pocket, Heero added hotwiring his car to his list of reasons to kill Nichol when this mess was over; right under compromising the whole rescue mission by walking right into a fucking trap through the front door.

“Took you long enough, Nicky,” Alex called, grinning like a maniac. “Nice wheels.”

“Where are they, Alex?”

“Dude, chill. Inside.”

“They’d better not be hurt, you shit, or I swear to God I’ll beat your face in.”

“I’m shaking in my boots, asshole. Come on, Walker’s waiting for you.” Alex led the way into the mansion, and for a brief moment the glow of a lantern was visible in the front hall. No lights. That was going to make this annoying as hell. 

Slipping around the front of the garage and letting the van’s bulk hide him from any watching eyes in the house, he eased into the garage behind Otto. It was the work of a few seconds to incapacitate him, and Heero left him cuffed, gagged and unconscious behind a pile of abandoned boxes at the back of the shadowed garage. With any luck at all, it would take Alex a while to come back out and notice he was missing. 

Trowa was already easing through what looked to be a burnt out window missing all the glass when Heero joined him. It was impossible to move silently through the debris in the pitch dark, and Heero was forced to turn on a flashlight, set to the lowest possible beam. 

Trowa glanced up at what was left of the floor above them, and they both froze momentarily when it looked as if any faint breeze would bring it down on them. When nothing happened, Heero motioned Trowa towards a door on the far wall. Even though Nichol had disobeyed the order to stay at the turnaround and call for help, they had no choice but to trust his word about the basement. Trying to pass through the rubble of the burned out wing would take far longer than they had left, and every wasted second was ticking away for Dorothy and Duo. 

***

“What?” There was no disguising the shock in Mueller’s voice as he stepped away from Duo to face Walker. “Syl?”

Even Iria stopped examining the bruises on Duo’s jaw to turn and stare at the man. “Walker, what the hell are you talking about? Syl’s dead.”

“Not according to the good Sheriff Cabot. He seems to think Preventers, under orders from Marshall Noventa, faked her death. They’re hiding her somewhere, and I’m betting that this one can tell me where.”

“No…” Iria shoved something that felt like a metal pen with a sharp tip into Duo’s fingers, then stood up to move closer to Walker and Dorothy. “You’re mistaken, or he was lying. I was… I was the one that found them, after the wreck. She’s dead.” Her voice broke, and Duo could see her shaking even as he realized he was holding a scalpel in numb fingers. “I would have… I would have known….”

Not giving a fuck about some chick that might or might not be dead, Duo forced down his shock long enough to take advantage of having all attention away from him; unfortunately, cutting through hard plastic cord he couldn’t see, with aching, swollen fingers was much harder than it looked in the movies.

“She’s not dead!” Walker shook Dorothy, and Duo forced himself to saw faster at the zip tie around his wrists. “She’s not. She’s alive, and when we find her, Nichol will come back. Everything will be just like it used to be, again.”

“Walker,” Nichol’s voice snapped everyone’s attention to the doorway, where he was standing with Alex. “Syl’s dead. She is. But I’m back now, okay? You don’t need to do this, just to get me to stay.”

“No.” Walker shook his head, and for just a moment he looked like a child, his eyes pleading with his younger brother. “I’ll get her back for you, Nichol.”

“You can’t, Walker. I’m sorry. She’s gone, and there’s no fixing this.” Nichol stepped farther into the room, until he could wrap his fingers around Walker’s shoulder. “Just let them go, okay? No one else has to die.”

“Listen to him, Walker.” Iria moved closer, one hand stretched towards him as well. “Why would Preventers have been digging around here, asking about the accident, if they knew Syl was alive?” 

“How’d you know that?” Mueller growled. “That anyone was snooping around?”

“Auda told me two Preventers were at my father’s house, talking to Quatre and Relena.”

“Fuck. Walker, just kill her now and let’s get the hell out of here.” 

“I think that would be a bad idea.” Duo felt the plastic around his wrists part just as Heero’s voice dropped into the sudden silence. “Preventers. Nobody move.”

Relief washed over Duo, leaving him dizzy, as Heero stepped into the room, followed a moment later by Trowa. Both Preventers had guns drawn, and Trowa’s was pointed squarely at Alex’s head where he stood closest with his back to them. 

“Dorothy? Duo? You guys okay?” Heero asked grimly, though his attention didn’t waver off of Walker and Mueller. 

“Y-yeah,” Duo had to force his throat to work, but he couldn’t deny even to himself that for once he was really happy to see the older man. “They shot Dorothy…”

“Son of a bitch, Nichol, you brought Preventers with you?” Mueller hissed. “I told you he fucking sold us out, man!”

“Is that true?” Walker blinked, turning to look at his brother with betrayed eyes. “You brought them?”

“I couldn’t let you kill them, Walker. It has to end.” There was genuine grief in Nichol’s voice. “I’m sorry.”

“Huh.” Walker shrugged, then suddenly turned to stare at his brother. “Did you send them in through the basement?” 

“What difference does that…? Oh fuck. Get down!” 

Walker started to laugh, as Nichol let go of him and turned back towards the mantle, his eyes wide with panic as he frantically tried to put out the candles. Iria was moving as well, her hands on the first lantern.

“What the hell?” Heero yelled, as the light in the room was cut to a single lantern. “Nichol, you bastard…” 

“If you want to live, I suggest you listen to my brother, Preventer.” Walker’s voice echoed from the dark near Duo, though he hadn’t even seen the man move, and he flattened himself to the ground in front of the couch to avoid any chance of becoming a hostage again. “The basement’s been filling with gas for hours now. When it hits the lantern in the front hall? Boom.”

“Shit!”

There was a sudden flurry of movement in the dark, and then a hideous crack as the night was ripped apart. Duo covered his head and prayed to Sister Helen’s God as the explosion brought what was left of the mansion down around them all.

***

“Duo!” He forced his eyes open to see Heero crouching down at his side. Blinking through the smoke and heat, he could see that most of the room was in flames, though it looked like the wall had stopped the worst of the blast. 

He could hear screams from somewhere in the chaos. 

“Can you get up? We have to get out of here.”

“I—yeah. I’m okay.” He doubted he sounded any more convincing that he felt, but fear was a wonderful motivator. Forcing himself to his hands and knees, he let Heero drag him in a desperate crawl back towards the others.

Iria had apparently thrown herself across Dorothy to shield her, and Nichol was tugging them both off the couch as flames licked at the sheets. By the doorway, Mueller and Trowa were beating the flames off of a screaming Alex. Duo blinked, realizing that their heavy jackets and helmets had protected Heero and Trowa from the worst of the blast, but Alex had caught it straight in the back.

“Heero—?” Duo looked around the room again, and then shivered. 

“Come on, kiddo. You’re doing fine.” Heero steadied him, as Trowa left Alex to his brother’s care and moved to lift Dorothy carefully. She was limp weight in his arms, and covered in blood. Duo felt his panic starting to crest again, before Heero’s arm closed tight around him.

“Where’s Walker?” Iria gasped, even as Nichol turned to search the room as well.

“He went past me…” Duo mumbled, “right before everything… exploded.”

“He’s heading for the back hallway, and Syl’s room,” Iria coughed as the smoke boiled through the room, sending them all closer to the ground. “Nichol…”

“I’ll find him, Ree.” Nichol turned to Heero with a grim look. “Get them out of here. Iria can lead you out through the kitchen.”

“Are you insane? You’ll never find him…”

“I can’t leave him in here. He’s still my brother.” 

Before anyone could stop him, he’d staggered to his feet and vanished into the smoke. “Fuck!”

“Come on…this way.” Iria tugged at Heero’s arm, bringing his attention back to the rest of the survivors. “We have to go, now!”

“Tro, you got her?”

“Yeah.” Trowa cradled Dorothy close to his chest. 

“I’ll get them.” Heero nodded back to where Mueller was dragging Alex away from the fire. “Duo, move. We’ll be right behind you.”

“O-okay.” Forcing himself to move, he followed Iria towards the door that both Walker and Nichol had fled through towards the back of the house. The air there was no better, still thick with smoke that seared his throat. “Which way?”

“Here!” Iria hesitated, then crawled to the left down a short hall and into a wide kitchen. “We’ll have to break the windows.” 

Trowa handed Dorothy off to Duo, then picked up the nearest kitchen chair, using it to break the windows. And then they were tumbling out into cold, clean November air. 

It was only when they had all stumbled around the building, that Duo realized that there had been no sign of Walker and Nichol… or Otto. 

Before he could say anything to Heero, as the Preventer dropped onto the grass to crouch beside him, there was a sharp crack from the depths of the fire.

“What was that?”

“Gunshot…” Heero and Trowa both surged to their feet, only to stop as a second shot rang out over the roar of the flames. 

“What the--?”

“It’s too late,” Iria gasped, catching Heero’s wrist before they could start back to the house. “You’ll only die too if you go in after them.”

“We can’t just leave them there.”

“It’s too late. And… it’s what both of them would have wanted…to die together. It’s finally over.” As they watched, tears slid down her cheeks. “They’re with Syl now.”

“Fuck.” Trowa looked at Heero for a long moment, then turned away to gather Dorothy back into his arms. “Yeah. It’s over.”

Heero stared at the house a little longer, then dropped back to sit at Duo’s side, one arm looped reassuringly around his shoulders. As the sound of sirens flooded up from the base of the mountain, Duo realized that he really didn’t mind at all.


	16. Epilogues

**Epilogue I**

Duo, flanked by the comforting presences of Father Maxwell and Sister Helen, stood quietly at the back of the small crowd that had braved the cold and wet morning to watch as the two coffins were lowered into the ground. Most of the people present had been drawn out of morbid curiosity to watch as what was left of Nichol and Randall Anders’ remains were laid to rest; only a few were there out of a genuine sense of grief. 

He wasn’t sure which group he belonged to, because Nichol might have been his roommate, and died after saving his life, but they’d never had a chance to become friends. Now, when it was over and nothing was left but two empty shells being lowered to rest, he found himself wondering for the first time what had caused Nichol to turn on his only family and friends, even to save two relative strangers. 

When the funeral ended, and with it the drama that had gripped Northfork for nearly three decades, most of those there only for the show drifted away again. Duo shifted uncomfortably in his black suit, stared pensively down at Nichol’s headstone while Father Maxwell moved over to speak to the priest officiating at the funeral. Sister Helen hugged him close for a moment before moving away as well, leaving him alone and staring pensively down at the two open graves. 

“Hey,” a quiet voice interrupted his thoughts, and dragged him back to the present. When he looked up, Heero Yuy stood at his side. 

“Hey.” He tried to think of something intelligent to say, but his throat had closed tight at the sight of the Preventer, looking nothing like a drug dealer in a crisp suit. He’d only seen the man once since the fire, and Duo had already blocked most of that meeting out of his head. “What are—I mean. How are you? And Dorothy? Is she…?”

“She’s okay.” Heero smiled, and the familiar grin eased some of the nervousness in Duo’s stomach. “She complained about the hospital food until Trowa and I broke her out. She’s up and around now, but not quite strong enough yet to spend a December morning standing in the rain. She said to tell you ‘Hi’ though, if you were here.”

“I… just felt like I should be, y’know?”

“Me too,” Heero nodded absently, then glanced back at him. “So how are you really doing?”

He had to stop and search for words again. “I—I’m okay. Taking a break from school, though Romefeller University is pretty much offering me a free ride for the next three years to make up for—for what happened. With—with the Assistant Dean—,” he swallowed down nausea, “and them giving me a roommate with some serious personal problems.” A laugh that only sounded a little hysterical bubbled up in his throat. “I even get my own room. No more roommates.”

“And is that what you want?” Heero pressed quietly, and Duo remembered him asking, so seriously that first morning, what Duo _wanted_ to study; it felt as though years had passed since that morning.

“I don’t know,” he muttered ruefully. “It’s just, only been a week since everything happened. I don’t know what I want anymore. But Father Maxwell said if I decide to go back to school, whether at Romefeller or somewhere else, I can even take a few Geology courses, and see what happens.”

“You know none of this was your fault, or because of you, right?”

“I know.” He frowned, looking down again at the reminder that his role in this whole tragedy had been almost accidental. He still didn’t want to think about how he’d been drawn into it, or about what had been found on the pile of CDs left in the driver’s seat of Heero’s car once the fire had died down, and the police had let them go. “Still doesn’t make it any easier.”

“No.” 

Duo’s gaze drifted across the open graves to where Sister Helen was comforting Agnes Noventa-Dietrich. The woman stood, frail and broken, by Nichol’s grave. She’d lost everyone now, though Relena Peacecraft stood close, and as Sister Helen patted the elder woman’s hand, she stepped forward to take her arm and lead her away. Nichol and Randall might not have been truly her sons, but she’d cared enough to open her home to them. And now, everything was shattered. She’d lost not only her daughter, but her stepsons were under arrest, and she’d filed the preliminary paperwork towards divorcing her husband the same day he was taken into custody as an accessory. 

“So, what happens now?” Duo finally asked, forcing down the guilt as he watched Sylvia’s mother walk slowly away into the shelter of Relena and her fiancé’s arms. “I mean, it’s over now, right?”

“It’s over. With the gift Nichol left in my car, we have enough evidence to prosecute Assistant Dean Parsons, as well as Mueller, Otto and Alex, if he lives, for rape. Along with attempted murder, kidnapping, and possession with intent to sell. They’ll be behind bars for a long time.”

“Good,” Duo sighed. “I just—I want it all to have never happened, but at least it’s over, and justice will be served, right?”

“That doesn’t mean it’s going to easy to forget. Or to forgive.” 

They both glanced over as Iria stepped to the edge of Walker’s grave, her head bowed, and her cheeks streaked with tears as she stared down at the casket resting at the bottom. As Duo watched, she knelt and dropped three red roses down onto the top. 

“What about her?” Duo asked, as a tall man who, judging by the resemblance could only be her father, waited patiently. When she finally stood, he hugged her close for a long moment before leading her toward where another two people in Preventer uniform waited by a car. 

Blinking, Duo belatedly recognized the Preventer Commander that Heero had taken him to the first morning, along with the Doctor who had examined him. 

“They’re arresting her too?” He glanced at Heero questioningly, as Iria’s father hugged her one last time before she slipped into the car. The two Preventers glanced in their direction and Commander Khushrenada nodded once, before they climbed in as well and the car pulled away. “I mean…in the end she helped us, so that’s got to count for something, right?”

Heero nodded. “It’s counting. She’s turning evidence against the others, in return for immunity. Her career as a doctor is likely ending, but Preventers have already snapped her up to help them with analyzing drugs like the one used on you. It may not be the career she worked for all her life, but it’s not going to be a life spent in prison.” 

Duo frowned down at his muddy shoes. “You think he was right? That somewhere Sylvia Noventa is really alive?”

“I don’t know,” Heero shrugged. “And with the sheriff missing and the entire police department here being investigated for corruption, I doubt we’ll ever truly know for sure. Besides, does it really matter? Even if she is, she voluntarily gave up this life, and Nichol. Now that he’s dead… it really doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah. I guess not.”

His conversation with the priest ended, Father Maxwell joined Sister Helen at the car as they waited for Duo. 

“I guess this is it, then, huh?” Duo shifted uncomfortably; oddly reluctant to walk away from the man who’d risked everything, including his life and his job, to watch over him.

“Yeah.” He wondered if he was imagining the wistful note in Heero’s voice, before the older man shook it off. “You’re stronger than you think. You’re gonna make a good geologist.”

“Maybe,” Duo sighed. “But right now, I think I’m going to take some time to figure out stuff about me, first. Then I’ll worry about the future.”

Heero sighed, and stuck out his hand. “Take care, Duo.” This time there was no doubt about the sadness in his eyes, even as he tried to hide it.

Duo tugged him into an awkward hug instead. “Thank you, Heero. For everything.”

“Just doing my job, kid.” Heero pulled away with a groan. “Go. They’re waiting for you, and it’s getting cold out here.”

“Yeah.” Duo took a few steps away and hesitated, before turning back. “Hey, Heero?”

Dark blue eyes rose to meet his, as Heero looked up warily. “What?”

“I got kind of used to hanging around with you—”

One dark brow arched, as Heero watched him come back. 

“—and I know you’ve got bad guys to catch and all that.” He could feel his face flaming as he stumbled to a stop again.

“Duo?” Heero reached out to tug his head up by the braid, which did not help with his sudden shyness or inability to get the words out. “What?”

“I just—maybe sometime—we could go back to that coffee shop?” Daring to raise his eyes, he blushed harder at the shock on the other man’s face. “Never mind. It’s probably a stupid idea.”

“No!” Heero blinked at him, looking confused. “I just thought you would be happy to never see me again.”

“Yeah, well,” Duo muttered to his shoes. “I got used to having you around. Besides—you still owe Mikey a ride on your motorcycle.”

“I wouldn’t want to disappoint Mikey.” 

Duo closed his eyes as Heero stepped closer, his hands resting lightly on Duo’s shoulders. “I’d love to get coffee with you sometime, Duo.” 

“Cool.” Duo groped in his pocket and pulled out the scrap of paper with his phone number on it, shoved it quickly into Heero’s hand, and stepped back. “Okay. I—uh—I gotta go.” He grinned up at the older man. “So. Uh.”

“Duo...”

“Yeah. Just, you know. Call me, okay?”

“I will.”

Leaving Heero behind him, a vaguely stunned look on his face, Duo turned away and headed for his family. For the first time since he woke up in Heero’s bed, he’d managed to leave the older man speechless and staring instead of the other way around. He saw Sister Helen roll her eyes as he reached them, but it didn’t wipe away the start of a happy grin.

There’d be plenty of time, later, to figure out everything else.

 

***

 

**Epilogue II – Three months later.**

The small blue car edged into the scenic turnout along the Palisades Parkway, neither occupant speaking as weary eyes scanned the nearly deserted parking lot. It was still early enough that the sun had not begun to rise across the Hudson River, and there was only a single other car in the parking lot.

Only when the car stopped, did the driver brush shoulder-length blond hair out of light blue eyes and turn to face her passenger.

“Are you sure—?” Iria fumbled to a stop, at a loss for words now that the moment was upon them.

“It has to be this way, Iria.” Nichol managed a tired smile, as he finally saw the still figure standing at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the wide river. “It might be over—finally— but we can’t go back. Not now. Not ever.”

“I know,” she agreed softly, unable to even manage a smile. Exhaustion weighed at them both, despite the fact that they’d waited for an additional two months, even after the worst of Nichol’s burns healed enough for him to endure the drive, before making this final journey. They’d worked too hard for this goal to jeopardize it at the last minute by having someone realize he was still alive, which mean Nichol hiding long enough for the events of that night to fade from public consciousness, and for the last pieces of the plan they’d laid, nearly two years earlier, to fall into place. “I just… take care, okay? Both of you.”

“We will.” The smile reached his eyes for the first time in over a year, as he leaned across the space between them to kiss her cheek. “Thanks. For everything. I never meant for it to cost you this much. I’m sorry.”

“You’re welcome. Now go.” She nodded at the figure waiting patiently across the small stretch of frost-bitten lawn from the car. “You two have been waiting long enough for this. Go. Have the life you should have had all along.”

“I don’t know that that’s possible,” Nichol shrugged, but his hand was already on the door handle. “But it will at least be a life where we’re finally free.”

“Give Syl a kiss for me.” 

“I will. Iria—thank you. Again.”

“Go.”

Stepping out of the car, he headed quickly across the grass to the overlook, to where his future waited, and took Syl into his arms for the first time in far too long.

“Nick—” Syl’s voice broke as she threw her arms around his neck and held on. “Oh god, I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” With her in his arms, he finally let himself believe that anything was possible

“Is it— is it finally over? He’s dead?”

“Yes.” He tried not to feel the sharp stab of regret and pain as he answered. For all that he’d known things couldn’t continue—part of him had truly loved his brother, much more than he had hated him. “It’s finally over.”

Syl nodded, knowing how he felt without needing him to force it into words. “Come on. There’s someone in the car I want you to meet.”

Hand in hand, they walked towards the lone car in the parking lot. Syl opened the back door, and he crouched down to hesitantly reach into the car seat, stroking soft skin with reverent fingers. “He’s so small.”

“It won’t last.” Sylvia grinned down at him, her family finally complete. “Not with his appetite.”

Nichol brushed gently at the brown fuzz sticking up haphazardly from the infant’s soft skull, and felt only the single brief urge to mark the unblemished skin in some way, as if to prove this moment was real. The impulse passed again, before he was even truly aware of it, as dark blue eyes blinked open to peer up at him.

“Hey, pumpkin,” Sylvia leaned over his shoulder to untuck the blanket a little more, “wake up and meet your daddy.”

The blue eyes, unimpressed by that news, closed again. Nichol turned his head to glance up at Sylvia, silhouetted against the rising dawn.

“Look,” he whispered softly. “The sun’s coming up. It’s finally morning.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone that took the time to read this fic, (either for the first time, or for some of you, again). As usual, it has changed a little in style since I first started it back in 2003, but the overall love story stayed the same in every incarnation. 
> 
> And last, the full lyrics to the song used for the title and as more or less the inspiration for this fic:
> 
> The Morning After (Song from The Poseidon Adventure) by Maureen McGovern
> 
> There’s got to be a morning after  
> If we can hold on through the night  
> We have a chance to find the sunshine  
> Let’s keep on looking for the light
> 
> Oh can’t you see the morning after?  
> It’s waiting right outside the storm  
> Why don’t we cross the bridge together  
> And find a place that’s safe and warm?
> 
> It’s not too late  
> We should be giving  
> Only with love can we climb  
> It’s not too late  
> Not while we’re living  
> Let’s put our hands out in time
> 
> There’s got to be a morning after  
> We’re moving closer to the shore  
> I know we’ll be there by tomorrow  
> And we’ll escape the darkness  
> We won’t be searching anymore
> 
> There’s got to be a morning after  
> There’s got to be a morning after  
> There’s got to be a morning after…


End file.
